Batman: Arkham Sonata
by marsdwellingfemale
Summary: Batman quickly apprehends a killer who escapes from Arkham Asylum, but not before damage is done. Frank Sullivan's life is turned upside down when his wife is tragically killed. Meanwhile, a series of unique murders seizes the attention of Gotham. Can Batman and Commissioner Gordon get to the bottom of this case? 20 chapters. Honest feedback desired!
1. Chapter 1

_**1**_

Frank opened the front door of his house and immediately smelled dinner cooking when he stepped in. He smiled. There was nothing like coming home to a good meal and your beautiful wife cooking in the kitchen, especially when your daughter was gone for the evening spending the night at a friend's house. Frank knew he and Sarah would have the evening alone together. He hung his keys on the hook by the door, set his other things down on the living room couch, and went into the kitchen.

He paused in surprise in the kitchen doorway. There was a pot on the stove that was boiling over and making a mess. Sarah was nowhere to be seen. He went to the stove and moved the pot off the burner.

It looked like the other pot on the stove was okay, with potatoes boiling gently. Meat sizzled as it cooked in the oven. Ingredients for whatever other side dish Sarah was making were spread out on the counter with a cutting board and a few utensils.

"Sarah?" Frank called, walking back to the doorway of the kitchen. He stood there for a moment waiting, and when no response came, he called again. He headed through the living room and down the hallway, wondering what she was doing. He glanced in the bathroom. Not in there. He turned back to the hallway and realized there was a dark shape down at the end of the hall. It looked like Sarah was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall.

"Sarah?" Quickly, he flipped on the light switch. His eyes widened and his heart raced. She was bloody. "Sarah! Oh God!" He flew to her side. Her head was drooping, her body still. The blood came from a red slit across her throat. She was sitting upright against the wall with her arms folded. Frank shook her even though he knew she was dead.

He ran to get the phone from the living room, sobbing as he went. With shaking hands, he dialed 9-1-1. A woman answered.

"My wife's been killed!" he blurted hysterically. In a maddeningly calm voice, the woman asked him where he was and what had happened. Help was on the way, she told him after he gave his address. He told the woman how he'd found Sarah, including the strange position she was in, as if someone had positioned her after the kill.

Then she asked him something he hadn't expected.

"Is the killer out of the house?"

Frank froze. "What?"

"Could the attacker still be in the house?"

Trembling, Frank turned his head towards the hallway. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Sir?" came the voice on the phone.

Frank went quickly to the kitchen and yanked open the knife drawer. He pulled out a sharp knife.

"Sir? Sir, I want you to go out of the house and wait on the sidewalk," said the woman on the phone. Frank laid the phone on the kitchen table and walked slowly but steadily back to the hallway. He tried not to let his eyes fall upon his wife on the floor again, but they did.

He poked his head into the first room, the bedroom that he and Sarah shared. Carefully, he stepped in and flipped on the light. He pushed the door all the way to the wall to be sure no one was behind it. Next, he bent and lifted the bed covers enough to see beneath the bed. No one to see there. He went to the closet and stood in front of it for a moment, not wanting to open it. But he gripped his knife, pressed his lips together in determination, and slid the door open. Nobody.

He went back into the hallway and then to the bathroom. The shower curtain was drawn shut. Moving slowly so as not to make a sound, he approached the bathtub. In a swift jerking motion, he drew back the curtain enough to look in. The tub was empty.

He stepped back into the hallway. There were two rooms left: Katie's room and the vacant bedroom, which stood across from each other at the end of the hall. Sarah's body sat in between.

Frank made his way to the end of the hall and turned his head to glance into both rooms. His eyes widened when he saw that the window was open in the vacant room and there were blood smears on the windowsill. Frank entered this room and made his way cautiously over to the window, glancing around the room for any threat as he went. When he neared the window, he saw a man outside- a bald man, and he was climbing over their backyard fence in a hurry. Frank watched with wide eyes as the man ran across the street and then disappeared down the next street.

Slowly, Frank turned away from the window and began heading back toward the hallway and Sarah. He suddenly felt very weak. He allowed his legs to give way beneath him and he plopped down on the floor, his back against the bed. His breathing was heavy and his gaze locked onto Sarah as the sound of sirens came out of the distance and grew steadily closer.

* * *

A man stood next to the water fountain in the darkness. The water fountain was a large, elegant display in front of a line of upscale clothes shops, a strip mall almost on the outskirts of Gotham. It was late, almost one o'clock in the morning. Not a single other soul was in sight. Not that the city was sleeping- Gotham never really slept- but the man seemed to have this area to himself right now.

The man was enjoying the fresh air and the sound of the water in the fountain. He hadn't been outside, even briefly, for months before today. He wore no shirt; he'd taken that off and tossed it several minutes ago. Light from the nearest lamppost gleamed slightly off of his smooth head. Scars covered quite a bit of his body, scars in the form of tally marks. He raised his knife to his chest and cut a new tally mark. The cut had to be deep to ensure a good scar. He clenched his teeth as the knife did its job, then watched the blood begin to run down.

He bent to get a little water from the fountain pool in his hand and splashed it over the cut, washing the blood away. Then he dipped his knife into the water, swishing it around and watching the blood flow off from the blade and dissipate. Then he suddenly heard something, or more like _sensed_ something, behind him.

He jolted upright and spun around. There was a dark figure standing there.

"Batman," he said.

"Zsasz." Batman looked at the bleeding cut. "Adding another one for the woman you murdered earlier?"

"You mean _liberated,_ " Zsasz responded.

"You're going back to Arkham," Batman told him. It wouldn't be the first time Batman had returned Victor Zsasz to Arkham Asylum.

"Sorry. I'm not ready to go back!" Zsasz lunged forward with his knife, but Batman was out of the way before Victor even began the stabbing motion. The knife wouldn't have posed much of a threat against most parts of the batsuit, but Batman dodged, anyway.

Batman hit Zsasz from behind, bringing him to his knees. "I'm going to do this the easy way," Batman said, and brought Zsasz up from his knees with an arm around his throat. He tightened the arm around the throat, tucking it behind his other raised wrist. Within seconds, Zsasz slumped, unconscious. Batman let him down to the ground, tied his wrists behind him and tied his ankles, and then heaved Zsasz over his shoulder and walked off.

* * *

The next day, Bruce Wayne sat in his upstairs living room on the couch. The curtains were drawn shut and the room was dimly lit, the way he liked it. The news was on the TV. A reporter informed viewers about the escape of Victor Zsasz from Arkham Asylum and the subsequent murder he'd committed in a town just outside of Gotham City. Like the majority of Zsasz's victims, the woman had been found with her throat slit and her body posed. Zsasz had been apprehended by police (according to the news) later that night, and was currently back in Arkham Asylum.

The reporter also explained that the victim's body had been discovered by her husband, Frank Sullivan. The married couple had an eight year old daughter named Katie.

Bruce didn't notice Alfred enter the room until he stood nearly in front of him, causing Bruce to jump a little.

"Hungry, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked.

Bruce nodded and sat up properly for Alfred to stand his food tray in front of him.

"Nothing like breakfast at noon," Alfred said with a chuckle as he placed Bruce's food on the tray. Bruce remained silent and showed no hint of a smile. "Why so glum?" Alfred asked.

Bruce looked back to the TV, which was now showing a commercial.

"You put away Mr. Zsasz last night," Alfred pointed out.

"Not soon enough," Bruce finally spoke.

"Oh Master Bruce," Alfred said, "Don't say that. You didn't let him spend even one full day out of Arkham!"

"That woman had a family. A husband and a child," Bruce said. He closed his eyes, remembering the pain of having his parents murdered during his own childhood. His heart was aching for that little girl.

Alfred looked understandingly at Bruce, waiting a moment before responding. He had worked for Bruce's parents before they'd been killed, and he'd continued taking care of Bruce ever since then. He knew his employer and friend well, and he knew what he was thinking. After a moment, Alfred said, "The important thing here, Master Bruce, is that you stopped it at one kill. Mr. Zsasz is locked up now. You've saved who knows how many. Don't try to make yourself into a failure."

Bruce nodded, opening his eyes to look at his food and knowing that Alfred was right.

Alfred smiled and turned to leave the room, knowing that Bruce would be fine. Bruce felt like this once in a while, and he always came to his senses. Bad things still happened even with Batman around, and always would- but Batman had made Gotham into a much better place than it once had been, and somewhere deep down inside, Bruce knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

_**2**_

It was a beautiful day outside. Frank stood with his hands resting on the counter, staring out the kitchen window. The lush, green trees and grass out there, the calm ripple of the water in the pond across the street, the way the sun was shining down, making everything golden- it was almost as if nothing had happened. In the time since his wife's murder three weeks ago, he'd been rather amazed at how normally everything and everyone else was still functioning. The weather outside was still just as bright. The smiles and greetings of passers-by were still just as cheery. Everyone was still going on with their regular business- driving to work, going to the store, taking their children places- and leaving him behind.

He hadn't been back in to work yet since it happened, and he wasn't sure when- or even _if-_ \- he would return. Although the official time he should have returned was at the two week mark, his boss was willing to give him some extra time. He just-

"Dad!"

Frank jolted, turning toward his daughter's voice.

"Is it ready?" she asked as she entered the kitchen.

"Yes. Have a seat." Frank set the paper plate with Katie's sandwich down on the table in front of her.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked her.

"Is there apple juice?"

Frank couldn't remember. He opened the fridge. "Yeah." He poured some for her, then put a bag of pretzels down in the middle of the table and sat down with his own sandwich. At first, he just watched Katie eat. She was only eight, and she really was remarkable. The loss of her mother had hit her hard, of course, but she was being very strong. She'd been solemn, especially towards the beginning, often sharing tears and hugs with her father. But already she was doing more smiling and talking and was returning to regular activities. It was summer vacation, so she hadn't missed any school. She'd asked to go to the mall today, which would be their first normal outing since it happened other than buying groceries, and she had plans to see her best friend on Friday.

Frank, on the other hand, still didn't even feel like eating. He didn't seem to feel hunger much anymore, and even when he did, it just didn't seem to matter to him. Food didn't seem important, and half the time when he had food in front of him, it made his stomach churn. Right now, he felt no hunger or particular desire to eat, but he picked up his sandwich and took a bite anyway. He hadn't eaten any breakfast, and he knew he had to take care of himself for Katie's sake.

He shuddered a little as he remembered waking up and looking over at the empty side of his bed, somehow hoping it wouldn't be empty. What a dark, dark feeling he'd had each morning lately when he woke up and found that it really was true. Sarah's death hadn't been a bad dream. How difficult it was to get out of bed and begin each day.

Frank had suggested to Katie that they move to a different house, a house that Sarah hadn't been murdered in. Frank almost couldn't stand being here, being in the same bedroom they'd shared, walking into the same kitchen Sarah had been cooking in right before it happened, walking down that same hall where her body had been. But Katie felt very strongly against moving. She'd been raised in this house, and to her, it would be leaving behind a big part of herself and much of what she had left of her mother. So after spending a few days in a hotel in Gotham, they'd returned back to the house.

 _You wouldn't want to stay here if you'd seen what I saw in that hallway,_ Frank thought, looking at Katie.

He took a deep breath and tried to shake off his thoughts. "Anything in particular you want at the mall?" he asked, trying to sound normal and not depressing.

As she crunched on a pretzel, Katie shrugged and tilted her head with an I-don't-know look on her face. "I just want to look at stuff, and probably play some arcade games."

Frank managed a smile. "Sounds good."

Before he knew it, Katie said, "I'm all done." Her plate was empty.

"Okay. Go get ready. Put on your shoes."

Katie stood and started to leave the kitchen, but turned back. She came and put her hand on Frank's shoulder. "It's okay, Dad," she said. "We're going to be okay."

Frank closed his eyes for a few seconds, fighting back tears. Then he looked at his daughter's serene face. "Thank you, honey," he said. "I know." They hugged, and then Katie walked away.

Frank looked back down at his own plate. He still had more than half his sandwich left. He took a few more bites to finish off the first half, then picked up both paper plates from the table and threw them away. He went to the TV in the living room and turned off the program Katie had been watching before lunch.

In the bathroom mirror, he saw that his reflection was looking a little worse for wear. He'd been waiting several days between shaves lately, and his eyes had circles under them. He hadn't combed his hair when he got dressed earlier. He took a moment to comb it quickly now, then stood in the hallway and called to Katie, "You ready?"

"Yeah," came her voice. She soon appeared out of her bedroom, now sporting a pair of red shoes. Frank headed through the living room and grabbed his keys from the key hook by the front door. He held the door open for Katie and then locked it behind them. Walking to the car behind Katie, he found himself staring at her. Her red hair looked beautiful in the sunlight and bounced with each step.

What would he do without her right now? He didn't want to think about it.

* * *

Heather sat dozing on a park bench. It was a little past sunset, and she was planning on spending the night on the bench. Her bag of belongings was next to her, tucked beneath her arm. Behind her was the base of a large statue, a statue of Thomas Wayne. Heather had met Thomas Wayne years ago, because she had been friends with his wife, Martha Wayne. Martha was a number of years older than Heather, but they'd met through a charity drive they'd both worked on. Heather had been a senior in high school at the time- so young. After that charity drive, Martha and Heather had kept in touch and helped with other charities together over the course of several years, and had eventually even begun brainstorming ideas for beginning their own, large-scale charity outreach (funded by the Waynes, of course). They'd eaten more lunches together than Heather could count, and sometimes Martha's sweet little son, Bruce, had come along.

But all of that came to an end when Martha and Thomas Wayne had been killed. It had been a huge shock, Heather remembered, to herself and to the entire city and many beyond, also.

Now, Heather was a middle-aged woman, and she was at a point in her life where she had no one and nothing. The bag beside her contained everything she had, and the statue behind her of her old friend's husband was the closest thing she had to a companion.

She tried to fight off sleep. If she fell asleep, she knew what she'd probably dream about, and she didn't want to. She was tired of the nightmares and had been wondering if they'd ever stop.

The sound of screaming caused her eyes to open wide. The scream was abruptly cut off. Heather gripped her bag and was considering getting up and leaving, heading away from the screaming- but then something came swiftly into her view from above, causing her to gasp. It was a large, dark shape, and it came gliding downwards. Only when it neared the ground did she realize what it was. It was Batman. His spread cape carried him to a smooth landing on his feet, and he moved at a quick walk toward the screams.

He noticed Heather as he passed by, slowing down slightly. Heather just stared.

 _Who is that?_ Batman thought as he looked at Heather. Her face- which he could see fairly well from the lamp post near the bench where she sat- was a little older but quite pretty, and looked very familiar to him. It was a rare occurrence for Batman not to remember the name and face of an acquaintance. It was a rare occurrence for him not to remember _anything._ His memory was something that had always served him remarkably, but he couldn't place that face.

He kept walking and sped up again once he passed. Heather released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She'd heard about Batman before, of course, but had never seen him or been quite sure if he actually existed. He was a little scary, she thought as he disappeared from her sight into the shadows.

Through some bushes, Batman saw what had been the source of the scream. A man had a hold of a woman from behind, with a hand now over her mouth. He was pulling her, jerking her, leading her off somewhere.

With a press of a button, Batman did a quick scan with a device and saw that the man was unarmed. No fancy maneuvering and sneaking would be needed. Batman walked directly towards them.

The woman noticed Batman first, and her eyes popped open even more widely. The man didn't notice Batman coming out of the shadows until he was almost upon them. When he did see Batman, who stopped and stood right in front of them, he froze.

"Let her go," Batman said firmly.

The man remained unmoving, holding the woman and staring at Batman with his mouth slightly open.

"Last chance. Let her go."

The man finally did. The woman ran a distance away, then stopped and looked back at the two men.

Batman grabbed the man by the back of the neck and said, "You're coming with me."

"But I let her go!" the man said.

"You still assaulted her. Now come on."

The man tried to run away, but Batman dealt him a blow that sent him to the ground. The man moaned.

"Do you really want to do this the hard way?" Batman asked. The man didn't answer. Batman pulled him up and, glancing at the lady, said, "Your testimony will be necessary for the police if you want to press charges." He resumed leading the man away, this time without resistance.

"Thank you!" came the woman's voice from behind.

* * *

The next day, Bruce surprised Alfred by getting up earlier than usual: 9:15 a.m. Granted, Bruce rising early wasn't _completely_ unheard of, but he always had a particular reason when he did so. As far as Alfred was aware, there were no particular commitments that Bruce had until later in the day. But Alfred asked anyway, and was told only that Bruce was going for a walk in the park.

Alfred raised an eyebrow at that. "In the daytime, sir?" he asked. Bruce didn't say anything further about it, but Alfred figured it had to do with his nighttime excursions as Batman. Bruce must be following up on something. Nothing to worry about. Bruce would tell him more if and when he wanted to.

"Would you like some breakfast first?" Alfred asked. "There's some hot coffee already."

Bruce smiled. "I'll take some coffee and toast."

Fifteen minutes later, after a reminder from Alfred that he had a meeting at Wayne Enterprises at two o'clock, Bruce was getting into the Bentley and heading for nearby Gotham. He was going to the park like he'd told Alfred, but not for the sake of taking a stroll. After last night, when he'd gone to bed, he'd kept thinking about that woman in the park. Not the one he'd rescued, but the one he'd seen sitting on the bench. Her face! He knew her, but he couldn't remember how. It was bothering him something fierce, so he was going back to that park. She might still be there or in the area. From the large bag sitting next to her, he guessed she didn't have a home to go to. He was hoping to sit on the bench next to her and somehow strike up a conversation that would reveal who she was, or maybe she'd know him right away.

Soon he was walking through the park. He reached the statue of his father, and his eyes fell upon the bench. It was empty. He slowed his pace almost to a standstill, his eyes scanning the area. There were plenty of people around, but the woman wasn't. He walked all around the park, taking each of the several paths that wove through lavish greenery. More than a few people stared at him in recognition, surprised to spot one of the city's most prominent figures on a stroll, but only a few actually greeted him. At times like this, Bruce often wondered how these people would act if they knew he was Batman.

He returned to the statue and sat on the bench, waiting for forty-five minutes to see if the woman would show up. She didn't.

As he rose from the bench, he thought to himself: _What are you doing? Since when is Batman a stalker of anyone other than criminals? Your time really could be better spent._ But still, before returning to his car, he walked a couple of blocks in the opposite direction and scanned the pedestrians fruitlessly for the familiar woman.


	3. Chapter 3

_**3**_

On Friday evening, Frank sat alone on the living room couch staring blankly at the television. The tray from his TV dinner sat now empty on the coffee table in front of him. He'd been eating more the past few days, that was true, but he certainly wasn't feeling any better emotionally. If anything, he seemed to be feeling worse.

Katie had gone to her friend's house today and would have been back by now, but she'd called and asked for permission to spend the night. Frank gave it. It would be good for Katie. She needed time out of the house, doing fun things. Frank had felt relieved that this would be an evening he wouldn't have to put on an act for Katie, playing the role of an alright man. Not that he had been playing that role very well, but he tried to every day nonetheless, and it was exhausting.

Now that he'd been alone here in the house without Katie all day, darkness now descending outside and no sound but the TV, Frank couldn't stand it. He felt alone and empty. He'd cried for a little while earlier, but a person could only cry so much. Now he just sat staring at the TV, not really paying much attention to the images on the screen.

Eventually he got up and strolled over to the grand piano, the main attraction of the living room. It had been Sarah's piano. She'd played it every day, and she'd had a professional level of talent. She never wanted to do performances, but she did teach piano lessons. She actually made quite a tidy sum of money from those lessons. It wasn't necessary in addition to Frank's income as a veterinary surgeon, but Sarah loved doing it.

Frank sat on the piano bench, shoulders drooped. It was a beautiful instrument, and he sort of wished he could play a song on it right now. He should have asked Sarah to teach him something. Now what good was the piano doing, just sitting here? It might never get played again in this house. Katie was very good on the piano- taught by Sarah- but she hadn't played since the murder. He didn't imagine she'd continue.

 _He_ didn't even feel like he wanted to continue with anything. Not a single thing, he thought as he got up and wandered slowly towards the bathroom. Despite his boss trying to be accommodating, Frank knew he'd have to return to work soon if he didn't want to lose his job. But he hated the thought of returning to work. How could he? How could he be expected to go back to that life, like everything was okay? It wasn't, it never would be, and he couldn't pretend it was.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and rested his hands on the sink, gazing at his scraggly reflection. He didn't look much better than he felt. Why was he continuing with this daily drudgery and torture? Life was full of darkness and pain now, and he was tired of it!

He dropped his head and closed his eyes tightly, feeling more tears coming to his sore, tired and puffy eyes. Katie. She was the light in his life now, and she was the reason he continued on. But what did she think now whenever she looked at _this,_ he asked himself as he looked back into the mirror. He wasn't the father she deserved. He didn't think he ever would be again.

He didn't want to go on for another day. He didn't want to get out of bed another morning. He couldn't take care of himself or anyone else. It was too much to ask. Too much! He pounded the mirror with the side of his fist in frustration.

With tightened lips, Frank opened the medicine cabinet. In slow motion, he reached for his bottle of sleeping pills.

"I'm sorry, Katie," he whispered. A couple of tears escaped from his moist eyes and trailed down his cheeks as he poured out an excessive number of pills into the palm of his hand, almost emptying the rest of the bottle. He stared at the pills. Minutes passed as he readied himself, coming to terms with what he was about to do. His eyes closed and he bit his lower lip.

But when he opened his eyes, he plucked only two pills from his hand. He swallowed those, sipped some water, and tilted his hand to let the rest of the pills fall slowly back into the bottle. The sound of the pills landing in there was the sound of him letting go of his chance to end it all. He was choosing to continue on. After placing the bottle back in the cabinet, he walked tremblingly to his bedroom where he laid down for some much needed sleep.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Frank and Katie sat on the living room couch watching cartoons. It was odd how much Frank found himself enjoying cartoons lately whenever Katie had them on. They seemed to be the only thing that really got him to relax now, and to escape temporarily from the pain and worry he was always feeling. The cartoons reminded him of a simpler time in his life.

When the cartoon they were watching ended, Katie said, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"When are you going back to work?"

Frank was silent for a moment, then looked at his daughter. "I don't know, honey," he said as he placed a hand on her knee.

After a pause, Katie asked, "Will I go back to school before you go back to work?"

Summer vacation had close to three weeks left. "I don't think so. I hope not," Frank answered. He began to think of what to say- how to explain himself- if she asked why he hadn't gone back yet. But Katie didn't ask any more questions.

Frank gave Katie's knee a squeeze, then picked up their cereal bowls and took them to the kitchen. He washed them, the sound of the water from the faucet blocking out the sounds from the living room. When he turned off the faucet, he froze. He heard something unexpected.

Frank stepped to the doorway of the living room. Katie had muted the television and was playing the piano. She played it quietly but well, and she was playing for the first time in weeks.

Frank stood there a bit bewildered, just listening for a moment. When Katie finished the song, he approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him.

"I'm going to keep playing," she said.

Frank had mixed feelings about hearing the piano again, but he managed a smile. "Good. Good for you, honey." Katie began playing again and Frank went back to the kitchen to place the bowls in the drying rack.


	4. Chapter 4

_**4**_

Heather slung her hefty bag over her shoulder and began the walk back to the park. It was several blocks away, not particularly far. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders. She'd just had a shower at a gym, the manager of which was a kind woman who opened the showers after-hours to some of the local homeless. Each person she let in was allowed two showers a week. Heather usually went on Tuesdays and Fridays.

It was dark out, just after nine o'clock. The cooler temperature at this time usually felt good after a hot day, but with her wet hair, the breeze was making Heather a little bit chilly. The walk to the park, although not a long distance, took a while as Heather stopped at the end of each block to wait for her turn to cross the busy streets. By the time she reached the park, the air had almost completely dried her hair.

She walked past the large, plush lawn out front and followed the main brick pathway through the greenery to her statue friend and her bench in the center of the park. Her bench was empty and waiting for her, with only one man strolling very slowly several feet away. When Heather sat down, he came slowly closer. Her hand tightened on her bag and she didn't look directly at him at first, but when she did, she recognized his face.

* * *

Bruce smiled as he approached the woman. She was just who he was looking for. Same person, same place, but this time he wasn't Batman.

He wasn't sure what to say. "Hello," he started with.

"Bruce Wayne?" she asked.

So she did recognize him. He nodded, still smiling, and reached out his hand to shake hers. She shook it. She might not have recognized his now mature face had she not seen it occasionally in newspapers and on TV, when she still had had regular access to those things.

"Do you... recognize me?" she asked, seeming to already have guessed the answer.

"I do recognize you, but I can't place you," he confessed.

"I'm Heather Ames."

 _Heather Ames._ Bruce said the name in his head. _Heather Ames._

"You were young. You might not..."

Bruce's face lit up with remembrance. It was Heather! She was one of the nicest people he'd ever known. "Of course! Heather. How have you been?"

"Well..." Heather glanced down at her bag and around at their surroundings.

Bruce hadn't really meant the question literally. He could see she was basically living in the park. He sat down on the bench beside her.

"Are things still going well with Wayne Enterprises?" Heather asked.

"Yes, very well," Bruce answered.

Heather was pleased that the work of her deceased friends was thriving. "And how's Wayne Manor?"

"It's fine, and so is Alfred. He has stuck with me all these years," Bruce said with a smile.

Heather smiled too. "I'm glad you turned out okay, Bruce."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. _You have no idea,_ he thought.

"I mean... I'm glad you're _doing_ well. After everything."

"Yes..." Bruce said. "It's been hard without them-" Heather knew he meant his parents- "or at least it was at first. But I've been doing my best to keep the company going in the directions they intended. Nearly all of the board members feel the same."

"That's great."

"Heather... how long? How long have you been on the streets?"

She looked down at the ground. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She'd told herself at first that it was no big deal and that she'd be back off the street in no time. This wouldn't become who she was; she'd go back to _helping_ people like this. But a year had gone by, and now it was close to being two.

"Almost a couple of years," she answered, still looking down.

"What happened?"

Heather was quiet. Her gaze remained frozen in place downward.

Bruce put his hand on her shoulder. "You can tell me," he said.

Heather took a deep breath and looked back up at Bruce. She hadn't told anyone. Nobody wanted to know. But now somebody did.

"Well, I became a nurse, and I got married at twenty-two," she said.

Bruce's heart already fell. Where was her husband now?

"We had a daughter. Laurie. Things were pretty good... but I lost them both to a car wreck."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry, Heather," Bruce said.

"And I went downhill after that. I didn't have any family, and I didn't feel like talking to any friends. I returned to work after a little while, but I just didn't want to continue with it anymore. So much so that I actually _couldn't._ I couldn't perform my job well anymore. I quit before I got fired, and for a while I did nothing... until I started doing volunteering again. For the homeless. That made me start to feel good again. But that doesn't pay the bills."

Bruce nodded.

"By the time I couldn't afford to take care of myself anymore, I quit the volunteering. And while I've been on the streets, I've never gone to the shelters and kitchens I had volunteered in. I didn't want anyone to know."

They were quiet for a moment. Bruce felt a little overwhelmed with all of this. Heather had been one of his favorite friends of his parents and a friend to him. She had a heart of gold, and when he'd known her before, she was such a determined person he was sure she had a successful future in store for her.

Heather didn't tell him about the dreams she often had about the crash, of her husband and daughter dying. She hadn't been there when it actually happened, but she'd lived it countless times while sleeping.

"Well, you don't need to live on the streets anymore," Bruce said.

Heather gave him an incredulous look.

"You can stay at my place for a while."

Heather didn't know what to say. How could she accept such an offer? She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Bruce spoke again.

"I'll get you something with Wayne Enterprises. A job, I mean. I can set it up tomorrow."

Heather was bewildered. How could she suddenly plunge back into the working world? There were practical issues with that as well as emotional. She didn't have proper work clothes, for one thing. "But-"

"No buts. You're not staying homeless, and you're not spending another night out here. I won't let you." Bruce was firm. He stood from the bench and held out his arm for Heather to take.

Heather looked at the arm. Her eyes moistened. Here was someone she hadn't seen in years- someone she hadn't thought was likely to even remember her- and yet here he was offering to basically save her life. How could he care so much about her?

He was Thomas and Martha Wayne's son, alright.

Heather stood, slung her bag over her shoulder, and hooked her arm through Bruce's. Bruce was smiling and Heather wiped away a tear as they left the park.

* * *

Alfred was watching the small television in the kitchen and sipping some ice water when he heard the Lamborghini drive up outside. Bruce was home.

Alfred met him at the door that led in from the garage to the foyer.

"Hello, sir," he greeted Bruce, then saw the lady that came from behind him as Bruce held the door for her. This was odd. Not that Bruce never had a girlfriend before, but this woman was older and very plainly dressed. She also had a large, full-looking bag with her.

"Good evening," Alfred greeted the woman as Bruce shut the door behind them.

The woman smiled and said, "Alfred."

At that, Alfred took a good look at her face. "Heather Ames?"

"Yes!" she said, and reached out her hands excitedly toward Alfred's. She held one of Alfred's hands between hers. "It's so good to see you!" she told him. Alfred had been one of Heather's favorite parts about coming over to the Wayne home.

"You too, dear! What have you been doing with yourself these past years?" Alfred asked.

"Alfred," Bruce said, "Heather needs to stay with us for a little while, and she's going to work at Wayne Enterprises."

"Ah," Alfred said understandingly. "And we'll be pleased to have her. Can I get anything for you two? Refreshments?"

Bruce looked at Heather. "Are you hungry?" he asked, guessing the answer.

"Yes, I am."

Alfred smiled. "I believe we had your favorite for dinner, Miss Ames," he said.

Heather's eyebrows raised. "Lemon chicken?"

"Indeed."

Heather smiled. "I can't believe you remembered that! And there's some left?"

"Of course," Alfred answered and turned toward the kitchen. "I won't be a minute."


	5. Chapter 5

_**5**_

Frank woke with a jolt. The phone was ringing. He glanced at the clock by his bed and saw that it was 10:27 a.m. He'd gone back to bed an hour ago after getting up and making chocolate chip pancakes for Katie's breakfast.

Frank reached out and grabbed the phone from its base. "Hello?"

"Hello, Frank."

Frank recognized the voice. It was his boss. He sat up.

"Peter. Hi," Frank said.

"How have you been?" Peter asked.

"Oh, you know..." Frank answered awkwardly. "Just trying to hang in there."

"Can you come in and meet with me soon?"

"Well... I'm not really ready to come back."

"I know," Peter said sympathetically. "I still need to see you. We need to talk."

"Well..." Frank struggled with what to say. Every fiber of him wanted to stay away from his workplace and those people that were part of his former life. He'd gone to potlucks and parties with them... with Sarah. He didn't even want to see the _building_ he'd worked in.

"Frank, if you won't come in..."

There was silence for a moment.

"You've been gone a long time now, Frank."

Frank closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I know."

"I'm afraid I can't keep fighting for you on this," Peter said. "I've been told to... let you go."

He was being fired. Part of Frank had been expecting this, but he'd also held on to some hope that this wouldn't happen. He wasn't surprised, but he still didn't know what to say.

"Frank?"

"Yeah. I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's not your fault," Frank told him.

"Listen, Laura wants to bring dinner over to your house tonight. We could just drop it off for you and Katie if you'd prefer, but we'd like to eat with you. Would that be okay?"

Frank put his hand to his forehead. He felt mixed emotions. He still didn't feel like seeing anyone, but his eyes moistened from the kindness of Peter and his wife.

"Sure, we could use it," Frank admitted. He'd been learning to cook a little better in the past weeks, but his meals were still nothing like Sarah's had been. "That's great of you, Peter."

"It's the least we can do. I'm glad you accepted. We still want to see you, and so do the others at work," he said.

Frank didn't answer that. He couldn't.

"What time would be good tonight?"

"How about six o'clock?"

"Sounds good. We'll see you then."

"Okay. Bye."

Frank hung up the phone and then sat there letting it all sink in. He'd been working at the veterinary clinic for over a decade... and now he no longer did. Frank realized that, to some degree, this had been what he wanted. He hadn't intended to go back. Not really. It might have been better to outright quit the job instead of letting it end this way, but it was done now.

Oddly, he didn't feel much about it. Peter and Laura's gesture of kindness made him feel emotional, alright, but he didn't seem to feel much disappointment over getting fired. Maybe it even would have made sense for him to feel relief after waiting on some level of consciousness for this to happen, but he didn't even feel relief. He just felt apathetic.

Frank sighed and stood up. How could he tell Katie? Should he tell her right now?

Actually, there was nothing to worry about. They were in a good financial position. Frank and Sarah had always been great at saving money, and barely over a year ago, Sarah's father had passed away, leaving them fairly considerable financial assets. Sarah's father had been their last living relative outside of their household of three. Although they'd discussed some ways in which to use the inherited money, they'd not yet spent any significant amount of it. Frank and Katie had enough to live off of for quite a few years.

It dawned on Frank that he'd have to tell Katie about getting fired right away, since Peter and Laura were coming over and she'd be sure to find out then. He went to his bedroom door and opened it, telling himself he'd just go tell the news to Katie and it wouldn't be a problem. It would be fine.

She was sitting in the living room, drawing in a notebook with the TV on. Frank stood behind the couch she sat on. "We're having company for dinner," he told her.

Katie looked up at him, a little surprised. "Who?"

"Peter and Laura."

"Your boss?"

"Yeah. They're bringing dinner over."

"Oh."

"But... I'm not going back to that job again, Katie. Peter's not my boss anymore."

Katie's eyes widened.

"It's okay," Frank told her. "We don't need the money right now. We'll be okay."

Katie's eyes grew visibly wet. "You're not a vet anymore?" she asked sadly.

Frank put his hand on her shoulder. "Sure I am," he said. "I'm just not working right now. But I'm not retiring forever."

Katie didn't seem very comforted by that. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Aw." Frank walked around the couch and sat next to Katie, giving her a hug. "It's okay, honey. It really is."

Katie nodded, but stared forlornly down at the floor.

"I'll be able to be around home for you instead of being at work every day when you get out of school."

Katie smiled, but it was a pretty weak smile.

 _Don't do that... Don't fake your smiles, like I do..._ Frank thought.

"I'll work again in time. And I'll still take good care of you. Everything will be fine. I promise," Frank told her.

"Okay," Katie said, her attention now turning to the TV. One of her favorite shows, I Love Lucy, was coming on. Frank watched half of it with her, then patted her knee and rose from the couch. He went to the garage and closed the door behind him.

In here was his car- not the daily driver that was parked out in front of the house, but this was his special car, his project. It was a 1968 Mercury Cougar. He'd collected a lot of parts for it and had restored the parts of the interior that were in bad shape, but he still needed an engine. Then it needed a little body work, and then he'd have it painted black.

Right now, he was only out here to visit it. He hadn't touched it- or even looked at it, he realized- since Sarah's death.

At first he stood there resting his hands on the front, gazing at it. Then he sat in the driver's seat. Sarah had been looking forward to seeing the car finished and riding in it. Frank shook that line of thought out of his head. He wasn't out here to mope about Sarah. He closed his eyes and thought about his car. He visualized it being done with a smile on his face. An actual smile.

After sitting in the Cougar for a little while- he wasn't sure how long- he got back out and looked at it again. He just needed the energy to tackle this project again.

He turned and went back into the house. As soon as he came through the door, he stopped short. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

And when he reached the living room, he couldn't believe what he was _seeing._

Sarah was at the piano- Sarah, his _wife-_ and she was playing her favorite song, Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu. Frank couldn't believe it. He rubbed his eyes and let his hands slide down to his cheeks to peer over his fingertips.

This time he didn't see Sarah. It was Katie at the piano, and she was playing Sarah's song.

Katie made a mistake and halted her playing. She looked at her dad. "I'm playing Mom's favorite song," she said, pointing out the obvious. "It's a hard one."

Frank nodded, but couldn't respond verbally. He was trying to recover from the shock he'd just suffered.

Katie began the song again, playing it more slowly this time. Frank trekked slowly through the living room and went to his bedroom. He shut the door and still heard the piano music. He just stood there for a moment with his back to the door, then sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

By the time six o'clock came, Frank was feeling better. It was so strange, the variety of emotions one could feel in a single day.

Katie had continued playing that song for a while earlier- too long. She was getting better at it. Frank had put on headphones and fallen asleep, and thankfully awoke after Katie was done at the piano. The two of them had eaten lunch and then they'd set about cleaning up the house. Frank had been trying to keep it somewhat tidy, kind of. Not really. Not nice enough for company. So he cleaned for a good chunk of the afternoon with help from Katie. He hadn't even asked for her help; she volunteered.

The cleaning work had managed to lift Frank's spirits a little bit. It felt good to do something productive.

 _Then why don't you go back to work, you fool?_ a part of him snapped at himself. He shook that off quickly.

He and Katie played a board game for a while after that. At first, Frank kept glancing at Sarah's place at the board and the game pieces she would have used. But, surprisingly, he managed to push those thoughts away without dwelling on them too much and enjoyed the game.

At six o'clock, Peter and Laura came. When Frank opened the door for them, he almost felt like bursting into tears. He was having some kind of emotional overload. They brought homemade lasagna, a favorite of Katie's.

It was a nice evening and Frank enjoyed himself, although in the back of his mind there was a constant nagging darkness telling him that this isn't really how it is. He wasn't really happy or okay, and being distracted for an evening couldn't change that.

While they were all sitting at the kitchen table eating and talking, Laura said that their children were happily eating pizza at home and laughed. Peter laughed too. Frank found himself looking at them differently for a moment, with resentment. Just look how carefree they were. Husband and wife. With children. A perfect family, alive and well, basically no worries. Just listen to them laugh. Frank's thoughts were bitter and almost hateful as they continued talking with Katie for a moment, Frank not really hearing what they were saying.

But after a few moments, Peter asked him something, drawing him back out from that darkness and back into the conversation. Frank scolded himself for thinking that way about these people that were being good friends to him. The rest of the evening was pleasant, and when Frank went to bed that night, he didn't lie awake in despair.


	6. Chapter 6

_**6**_

Bruce and Heather had a pleasant breakfast together the morning before Heather's first day of work. French toast, eggs, sausage, and orange juice were set in front of them by Alfred and were consumed with much enjoyment, especially by Heather.

"I don't know how you can expect me to work with such a _full_ stomach," Heather said with a smile when she finished eating.

"They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Bruce said, also with a smile.

"And it was delicious. But I think I overate."

Alfred came in.

"More food for you, Miss Ames?" he asked, seeing her empty plate.

"Oh, _no,_ Alfred. Definitely not!" She leaned back and let him take her plate.

"You can take mine, too, Alfred," Bruce said. His plate still had close to half the food on it. It wasn't very often Bruce ate this early in the morning, and his stomach protested against receiving any more bites.

"Not a big breakfast eater?" Heather asked.

"No. I'm not."

"Can I get anything else for you two?" Alfred asked before leaving the room.

"No, thank you, Alfred," Heather answered.

"No thanks," said Bruce.

"Well, I'd better go finish getting ready," Heather said as she rose.

"Me too." Bruce stood and went to get properly dressed. He could choose to stay home and have Alfred drive Heather to work, especially since Bruce- or rather, Batman- had somewhat of a late night last night. But he wanted to be as supportive as possible for Heather, so he'd take her in and show her where to go and introduce her, and he could take care of some work himself while there. He might have Alfred pick her up later though, he thought, because he didn't plan on staying quite that long. He would probably come home and take a nice nap.

After getting dressed, Heather stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked at herself. She hardly recognized the reflection. Despite the last couple of years making her a little too skinny, it had been a while since she'd looked this good. In fact, she'd never looked so professional. Her hair was pulled neatly back and she wore a business-style dress. She wouldn't wear a dress every day- no way would Heather do that- but this was for her first day. She'd also bought pants-suits from the women's department when Alfred had taken her shopping. Those were what she planned on wearing to work most of the time. Still not to her taste, but better than dresses.

Heather slipped on her shoes- nice shoes, but not high heels. She stood and went back out to find Bruce waiting for her.

"You look very nice," Bruce said, and he meant it. He seldom gave compliments that weren't sincere. She had a lot of beauty and grace to her appearance. He wished his mother could see her now.

"I concur," said Alfred from behind. He still had that funny habit of popping into a room and a conversation, Heather thought.

"Thank you," Heather said with a smile to them both.

"Both of you, have a good day," Alfred said.

"Thanks, Alfred," Bruce said as he led the way to the garage.

They took the Bentley. Bruce felt like driving the Lamborghini, but the Bentley seemed more appropriate. Heather gave him an impressed smile after she got into the passenger seat.

And then they were on their way to Wayne Enterprises, where Bruce would put in a few hours of work and Heather would put in her first day of filing papers and doing other office errands.

* * *

Frank and Katie stood at the living room window together on a nice evening, elbows resting on the windowsill. They were looking at the colorful sunset. In three days, Katie would be going back to school. Tomorrow they had a nice day planned. They were going to the state fair.

Katie soon left the window and went to the piano. Frank winced, dreading what song she might play, but she didn't play Sarah's song. She played some other songs.

Frank meandered into the kitchen where his book sat on the table, a novel he'd been reading slowly through. He sat and read some, but after a little while, that song began. She was playing it again. Frank's eyes widened and rose from the book. His lips tightened angrily. He felt like yelling and telling Katie to stop, but he couldn't do that. Katie was going through a rough time too- she must be, even though she seemed almost like she was back to normal. Playing that song was probably helping her. It was like keeping a piece of her mother.

But it wasn't helping Frank, that's for sure. He went out to the backyard through the sliding door in the kitchen. When he slid the door shut, the music almost went away. He gazed out over the rooftop of his back neighbor at the darkening sky.

His fists clenched. He shouldn't have to hide from something in his own home! With a sigh, he crossed the back porch and descended the steps. He picked up a basketball from the ground and began bouncing it as he walked closer to the basketball hoop in the center of the yard. The dirt was hard enough to provide a good surface for dribbling.

He shot the ball and made it into the hoop. It was too easy, being a lower than average hoop they'd gotten for Katie. But the sound of the ball helped to block out the faint music coming from the house. He caught the ball and dribbled it for a minute before shooting again.

* * *

The next morning, Frank woke up to the high-pitched sound of his alarm. It alarmed him, alright. It had been a while since he'd woken up to that sound. He reached over and pressed a button to stop the infernal beeping.

After another moment of lying there, Frank sat up groggily. It was seven a.m. Not a pleasant hour to be rising voluntarily, but it was for a good reason. He and Katie were going to have a great day, he told himself.

He went out of his room and to the bathroom before going to Katie's room. Once in her room, Frank sat on the edge of her bed and placed his hand on her shoulder. Katie woke up and turned to face him.

"Good morning," Frank told her.

Katie smiled. It felt really good to have her dad come in and wake her up. Lately, she'd been rising before him most of the time.

"Are you ready for a day at the fair?" he asked with a smile.

Katie nodded and yawned.

"What do you want for breakfast? Chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Yeah!"

That was an easy guess. It was Katie's favorite breakfast and she liked to have it on special days.

"Okay." Frank stood and went to get dressed quickly, then headed to the kitchen. Several minutes later, he was scooping the first three pancakes off the stovetop grille and onto a plate. Katie came in as he was doing so. She was already dressed, wearing jeans, a red shirt, and red tennis shoes.

"Smells good," she said and sat down at the table where there was a glass of milk waiting for her. Frank set the plate of pancakes in front of Katie along with a bottle of maple syrup, then returned to the stove to make several more pancakes.

After breakfast, they both rubbed sunscreen lotion onto their arms and faces, and then Katie led the way excitedly to the car. Frank was glad to see Katie happy, but he couldn't help feeling a little sad; it was their first trip to the fair without Sarah.

The drive was about twenty minutes. Frank paid for parking, found a good spot pretty easily with it still being early, and they walked to the ticket booths. They had begun letting people in not many minutes ago.

"You don't want a wristband, do you?" Frank joked, knowing she did. The pink wristbands would allow them to go on unlimited rides, and Katie was now tall enough to go on almost all of the fair's rides.

"Dad!" she said in response. Frank laughed and got them both wristbands.

"I guess it's rides first," Frank said as they walked along the entrance avenue. "Other events don't begin for a while, and I'll bet the lines for the rides will be short right now."

Katie agreed whole-heartedly and they made their way to the rides.

"Want to go on any of these?" Frank asked and pointed towards the kiddie-section of rides while they walked past it. Katie rolled her eyes, but smiled. Frank gazed at the small rides and the parents leading their children (or sometimes vice versa) through, and thought about how recently it was that Katie had only been able to go on those rides.

Soon they were amidst the regular rides, and the first one they went to was like a spinning octopus with moving arms. Katie loved it. They made fun of each other's hair afterward.

Next was bobsleds, and then bumper cars. The lines soon started to get longer. After more than an hour of rides, Frank suggested they go to the rodeo. His pamphlet said it started at ten-thirty.

They bought drinks along the way and reached the rodeo area several minutes before it would begin. The bleachers were pretty full, but they found a spot in the middle.

"Have you been to a rodeo before, Dad?" Katie asked.

"Yeah. I went to a couple when I was younger."

"What's the best part?"

"Well, I like the bull riding."

"Are they going to ride bulls here?"

"Yeah, look." He pointed way off to the side where bulls could be seen among fences, in pens waiting to go into the chutes to be mounted. "See? You can see some of the bulls over there."

"Oh. Yeah. I want to see the barrel racing."

"They'll do that, too." There were already barrels arranged in the large corral.

A voice came over the speakers and greeted all the viewers. First was the barrel racing. Katie exclaimed with delight when she saw the first person ride out on a horse.

"Look! It's a girl!" She smiled as the cowgirl rode her galloping horse, weaving perfectly around the barrels in a nice pattern.

"Yeah," Frank said with a smile. Katie joined in the applause and cheering when the woman finished riding, and she continued to show enthusiasm throughout the barrel racing and the events after it. Frank enjoyed watching and listening to Katie even more than he enjoyed the rodeo.

When it was over, Frank asked, "Are you hungry?" as they stood and waited for people in their way to slowly file out.

"Yeah, is it lunchtime?" Katie asked.

"Yes. It's noon."

"Let's eat before we go on more rides," Katie said.

"Okay, but no wild rides for a little while after we eat," Frank warned. "Maybe we can look at the animals afterwards."

"Okay!" Katie never said no to animals.

It was a very crowded area leaving the rodeo, so crowded that Frank got separated from Katie in the shuffle. As soon as he noticed she wasn't by his side anymore, he called, "Katie?"

After a moment, he called out again. Nothing.

Frank began to push his way through people somewhat frantically. _No, no, Katie. Come on. You know better than to go off by yourself._

He continued to call her name. Why hadn't he been holding onto her hand to keep her close? _Stupid!_ he told himself.

Eventually, he broke out from that crowded walkway and into a main avenue. He looked both ways. "Katie?" he called out. People were giving him looks.

He walked quickly down the avenue in one direction, his eyes scanning fiercely. Soon he stopped, turned back, and walked up the avenue in the other direction. Still no sign of her.

 _She wouldn't go this far by herself. She would've stopped and waited closer to where we were,_ Frank thought.

He began rushing back towards the rodeo area. The walkway that was so crowded minutes ago now only had a scant amount of people coming out.

 _Please be around here somewhere. Please be around here somewhere._

Then he spotted her. She'd gone back to the bleachers and was standing on one up high, shielding her eyes from the sun and looking around.

"Katie!" Frank called.

Katie heard him and then saw him, and began to work her way down.

"Where'd you go?" Katie asked as soon as Frank got close. Frank hugged her with relief before responding.

"Where did _you_ go? I was about to report you missing and have them call for you over the loudspeakers. What are you doing back here?"

"When you disappeared, I came back here 'cause you and Mom always taught me if I get lost to go back to the last place you knew I was."

Frank smiled. "Well, that was good. From now on, you hold my hand in crowds. Okay?"

"Okay."

They set off walking together to find some lunch. Barbecued hot dogs was their food of choice. After eating, they strolled through the barn area where there were goats, cows, horses and more. Katie stopped to pet most of them, especially the babies.

Next Katie decided they should return to the rides and go on the log ride. It was hot out and getting splashed with water sounded good. Frank agreed.

On the way, Katie was attracted to one of the game booths. She slowed down and stared at the huge stuffed animal prizes. The worker who was running it noticed her interest and began enticing her loudly.

"Does the little lady want a prize?" he asked. "Come right on over here! All you've gotta do is hit the target with this ball three times, and you'll win one of _these_ guys!" He motion towards the animals.

"I'll bet you could do it, Dad!" Katie said.

Frank looked at the booth setup as they got closer. The target was small and it was on a track, meaning it moved.

"It has to be three hits in three tries?" Frank asked the man.

"You got it, sir!"

"I don't know, Katie," Frank said. It was true he'd pitched for his high school baseball team and had been good at it, but that was a long time ago, and this was different.

"Please," Katie said.

"Well, I'll try, but don't get your hopes up," Frank told her.

"Alright! It'll be five dollars, sir," said the man.

Frank pulled out his wallet and paid.

The man pulled a lever that started the target moving, then set three balls in front of Frank. "Good luck!" he said as he stepped out of the way.

Frank held the ball in both hands for a moment and watched the target, familiarizing himself with its movement and pace. Then he drew his right arm back with the ball, prepared himself, and threw.

It was a good, solid throw, but missed slightly. The ball hit the thick tarp behind the target with a thud. Frank gave Katie an _I told you so_ look.

"I'll give it another try," Frank said as he got out his wallet to pay another five dollars.

The next throw hit the target. So did the next one, to Katie's delight. And the last throw did, too.

Frank's eyes shot open wide and Katie squealed with delight. "You did it!" she exclaimed and hugged her dad.

"I can't believe it!" Frank said.

"Neither can I," said the guy at the booth. "Which would you like, sweetie?" he asked Katie, gesturing towards the large stuffed animals that were hanging up above head level.

Katie barely hesitated. "I want that one," she said with a finger pointed at a giant pink rabbit.

"Good choice," the man said. He used a step stool to get it down and then presented it to Katie. "Congratulations," he said with a smile to them both.

"Thank you!" Katie said, holding her huge rabbit awkwardly.

As Frank and Katie turned to walk away, the man began calling out to other passers-by: "Come and step right up, folks! Win one of these great prizes just like this little girl right over here! Almost got it on her first try! Come and give it a try, folks!"

"Thank you, Daddy," Katie said. "You did great!"

Frank smiled and felt proud. "You're welcome, honey."

"I'm gonna name him Robbie," Katie declared.

"Sounds good," Frank said. "How about we go put him away in the car? I don't think we should lug him around here all day."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Katie said, peering over the rabbit.

Frank laughed. "I can carry him for you." He held out his hands and Katie gave him the rabbit. They put him in the car, re-entered the fair by showing their hand stamps, and were soon back to the rides. For the rest of the day, as well as going on rides, they enjoyed attending a demolition derby and browsing souvenir shops. They stayed until a little past sunset to watch the fireworks and then headed home.

Katie quickly fell asleep on the ride home, her rabbit sitting across her lap. Frank glanced at her fondly throughout the drive and had to force himself to disturb her when they reached home. She barely stirred, so Frank carried her inside. He'd have to come back out again for Robbie the rabbit.

 _Why can't every day be like this?_ Frank asked in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

_**7**_

Frank came back into the house from the garage. It was a Wednesday afternoon and the sun was shining brightly in through the windows. He'd been working on the Cougar lately while Katie was at school. He'd have it running pretty soon, and once he did, his plan was to surprise Katie by picking her up in it.

But he wasn't feeling so sure of his plans anymore. Something didn't feel right. His project... this didn't feel like how it was supposed to be.

Frank meandered over toward the couch, but stopped before sitting. He gazed at the piano and then wandered over to it. He opened up the lid and stared down inside. Sarah had often opened the lid while she played, and he remembered her talking about how wonderful the workings of a piano were. Frank had to admit it was pretty cool to watch the inside of the piano while it was being played, and that grand piano was a powerful instrument. It needed no help from electronics to be loud and thunderous. When Sarah played that piano energetically with the lid open, it seemed like it could be heard from miles away.

Frank sat on the bench and heard Sarah's song, Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu, in his head. He didn't mind as much anymore when Katie played the song. At first, he'd nearly had a nervous breakdown every time she played it. Now he no longer tried to escape the sound of the music. He was actually glad, in a way, that Katie played it. It was like keeping a part of Sarah alive.

And what was Frank doing? He should be doing his part to keep Sarah alive. He should be doing something other than moping around the house. He should do something for _her-_ for Sarah. Shouldn't he?

He looked toward the door to the garage. Of course! Here he was devoting time and effort to a project all for himself, a project he didn't even feel the same enthusiasm for anymore. He could change that! He _would._ He glanced again at the inside of the piano, then got up and went to his computer to embark on some research.

* * *

Heather awoke suddenly, breathing heavily. She strained to look at the dark room around her, getting her bearings. Then she remembered: she was in Wayne Manor. For a moment, she'd thought she was still homeless.

 _You_ are _still homeless, girl,_ she told herself, _but at least you're not jobless._

She sat up and buried her head in her hands in despair. It was a terrible dream she'd awoken from. Even sleeping in a mansion couldn't stop nightmares from coming, dreams of death and doom for the ones she'd loved.

She lied back down on her back, but instead of closing her eyes, she stared. She had no desire to return to the land of sleep right now, nor did she think she even could. She rose from her bed, slid her slippers onto her feet, and left the room.

The hall was fairly dark, but there was a slight amount of moonlight coming in through the tall windows. She gazed outside through each window that she passed. It was nice seeing nighttime from inside for once. Night seemed much more beautiful and tranquil when one wasn't stuck outside in it on the streets of Gotham City.

Heather reached the main upstairs living room, which was dimly lit by a few small lamps around the walls. She flipped on the main light switch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was later than she'd thought. In less than an hour, it would be time for hints of sunlight to begin appearing on the horizon.

It was a good thing tomorrow- or today, now- was Saturday, meaning she didn't have to work. Still, it would be wise to return to bed pretty soon and get back to sleep. She didn't want to throw her sleep schedule too out of whack.

She considered going downstairs to the kitchen for a snack, but that would probably make it harder to get back to sleep soon. She sat down on the couch and stared at the TV for some minutes, not really feeling like turning it on.

Then the large bookcase in the room caught her attention. A book sounded perfect. Reading had always used to make her sleepy, and a good book would hopefully put her mind on more pleasant avenues of thought than those from which she'd awoken. She went and scanned over the book selection, choosing one after a couple of minutes.

She began heading back out of the room to go read in bed when she heard someone coming. She turned to see Bruce enter the room, fully dressed. He looked surprised to see her, almost like he'd been caught doing something. But that was silly; it was his house.

"Heather," he said with minor surprise in his voice.

Heather smiled. "Hi, Bruce." He appeared not to have been to bed.

"Are you just getting home?" Heather asked.

"Yes," Bruce admitted.

Heather smiled again. Bruce hadn't really struck her as the partying type, but she supposed Bruce Wayne was entitled to some late night fun.

"You're up pretty late," Bruce said, thankful she didn't ask where he'd been. He'd just gotten out of his batsuit moments before.

"I woke up and was having trouble getting back to sleep," Heather said and held up the book she'd taken.

Bruce gestured at the book and said, "It's a good one. You'll like it." He headed across the room towards his bedroom, which was on a different hall than Heather's. "Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," Heather responded, amused that they were bidding each other goodnight in the morning. She flipped off the living room's main light switch and headed in the direction of her own bedroom, book in hand.

* * *

Frank awoke to the sound of his watch beeping. It was time to pick up Katie from school. He made himself sit up, then rose from the couch, difficult as it was. He'd been neglecting his rest lately. This nap was an unusual occurrence for him, but he could only ignore his body screaming at him for so long.

He walked to the bathroom. Since that day a couple of weeks ago- no, it had actually been three weeks now, hadn't it?- when he'd decided to change his Cougar project, he'd been keeping himself incredibly busy. He'd paid a professional piano tuner to come to his house every day for a week and a half to teach him about pianos and how they worked. He'd been doing extensive research and calculations on his computer and on paper. He'd been working on this stuff while Katie was gone, and also at night after she went to bed. He'd been "burning the midnight oil" every night, going to bed in the early hours of morning to get a few or a couple hours of sleep.

He'd become thoroughly exhausted, but such was his obsession and excitement that he didn't pay any heed to his physical state.

After using the bathroom, Frank left the house. Katie's school was less than ten minutes away. He got there a couple of minutes early, parked in their usual pick-up spot next to the school's soccer field, and waited. He watched the kids after they started coming out, most making their way to their waiting parents. To their happy families and happy homes. Poor Katie. All she had to come home to was a mopey father.

Soon she came into view. At least today was Friday, the day they went for ice cream blizzards after school each week. It was a habit they'd started as soon as Katie had returned to school this year.

When she reached the car and got in, Frank smiled. "Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"How was your day?"

"It was fine."

"Do you have much homework?"

"The usual. Not a lot, and nothing too hard."

One of the many roles Sarah used to fulfill, and which was now Frank's, was homework helper.

"Ready for some blizzards?" Frank asked as he pulled into traffic.

"Of course," Katie answered.

As they drove there, Frank wanted to tell her all about his project he'd been researching and was about to eagerly embark on. He wanted to gush about it and he wanted to involve her, and he just wanted someone to talk to- someone other than an imagined Sarah lying in bed next to him before he went to sleep or when he woke up. But no, this wasn't something he was going to tell anyone, at least not now. He wasn't going to work on it at home, either. He'd get another place.

Now, it was time to simply go and enjoy some ice cream with his daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

_**8**_

Soon, Frank was spending his time at a new place. He rented a warehouse complete with a bathroom and had his Cougar towed there. He took tools and supplies there, which took some time, especially since he didn't own a truck.

At first he only spent daytime hours there working on the Cougar, not wanting to leave Katie at night. But then one evening he did. He left after Katie was in bed and drove out to his warehouse, returning hours later. But on his way driving back to the house, he was overcome with fear that something might have happened to Katie. What was he thinking, leaving her alone like that? His wife had been killed in that very house while he was gone, and if anything happened to his daughter, that would be the end of him! Or even if nothing bad happened, she may get up out of bed for something- for the bathroom, a drink of water, or for comfort after a nightmare- and discover her father wasn't home. What would she think then? She'd be scared. Maybe she'd even call for help. 9-1-1 was the only number she knew to call. Then not only would his daughter know he'd left her, but so would the authorities. He could get into deep trouble! They could even try to take Katie from him!

When Frank got home, he went directly to Katie's room and found her sleeping soundly. Never again would he leave her home alone. A car project wasn't worth risking his daughter's safety. Besides, his project was nearing completion. Working on it during her school hours would be sufficient.

Frank brushed his teeth half-heartedly. All attempts at self care lately were only half-hearted and non-thorough. He then headed to bed for a little sleep before it was time to take Katie to school. He sat on the bed and found himself feeling angry. He found himself thinking about the place that had let his wife's killer escape: Arkham Asylum.

That place was a joke. A bad, bad joke. Really, what good was a place that held the criminally insane if it let them out when they pleased to run rampant and act as criminals again? He knew Victor Zsasz hadn't been _let_ out- not purposefully. But he hadn't been kept in. Didn't they have any security systems and security workers in that place? What kind of idiots were running it? Why were they allowed to keep their jobs, which they were obviously failing at?

Maybe he could press some kind of charges against that place. Maybe the law could punish them somehow. Yes, surely it could and would! He should have thought of that sooner! He'd look into that later while Katie was at school. Right now, it was time for a much needed nap. He got comfortable laying on his side and let his drooping eyes close on the sight of his bedroom window, through which hints of daylight would soon be coming.

* * *

A few days later, Frank pulled angrily into his driveway. Over the past few days, he'd spoken to a number of lawyers, mostly on the phone. This time he'd gotten as far as a meeting, but this one said the same thing the others had. None would help him press charges against Arkham Asylum.

Now that he'd wasted time finding that out, he'd go back to his car project. After just a couple or three more days of working on it, he should be able to have it done. He went into the house for some lunch before heading to his warehouse.

* * *

A few days later, the Cougar was indeed complete. He'd even painted it himself, after researching how to do so properly. It was now a beautiful, shiny black. A little after midnight on Thursday night, he stood in the warehouse staring at it. Katie was at home in bed with a babysitter in the house.

Beneath the Cougar's hood was an "engine" of Frank's own creation, crafted with piano parts. If his calculations were correct, the piano strings he was staring at would actually drive the vehicle.

Time to take it for the first real drive. He opened one of the warehouse's large doors, took the car through, and got out to close it again. Then he set out driving down the street. From under the hood came the sound of the song Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu. He'd set it up to play this specifically.

He didn't drive through busy areas of Gotham, but stayed on the outskirts. He rolled down the windows and reached a coastal road. He did get a couple of people staring at him in bewilderment, probably thinking he was blasting classical music from his stereo. But he just enjoyed his drive, drinking in the fresh night air and gazing at the dark sky over the ocean water as much as driving allowed. Street lights that he passed every several seconds dimly lit the road.

For once, he felt _good._ Really good. The cool nighttime air blowing at his face and hair through the window refreshed him. The peaceful view of the nearby water seemed to lift away all burdens, and the music soothed him somewhere deep down.

On his next drive, he'd have a destination, but not this time. This time was all about enjoyment, and he had no intention of rushing back.

* * *

The next day, Katie noticed her father was in much higher spirits. She'd gotten so used to his demeanor being somber, with only half-hearted smiles when he did smile, that this change came as quite a shock.

Since it was Saturday, there was no school. Over a breakfast of waffles and eggs, Frank asked if she'd like to go bowling. Her answer was yes. She'd only gone once with her parents before and hadn't been very good, but she remembered she'd had fun. She also remembered with excitement that there was air hockey at the bowling alley, a favorite game of hers.

So later in the morning, close to lunch time, they drove to the bowling alley. Frank was feeling well enough today that he didn't scowl at the sight of happy, peppy people. As soon as they arrived at the bowling alley, Katie led him straight to the air hockey table. They played a game of it, with Katie's little arm whipping around like lightning. She won, as was the norm; she excelled at air hockey.

Next they rented bowling shoes and went to their assigned lane. They sat down to change shoes. Frank kept glancing at Katie as she put her bowling shoes on. It seemed like just yesterday she'd needed him and Sarah to tie her shoes for her!

And then they chose their bowling balls. Katie found a pink one in a weight that was comfortable for her. Pink wasn't quite her favorite color, but she liked it. Frank's ball was green and quite bigger. Katie tried to lift it and laughed when she couldn't.

They played their match with the bumpers raised on the sides of the lane. It wouldn't be much fun for Katie if she kept getting gutter balls. Frank showed her again how to aim and bowl with both hands. It took her ball a while to make its way down the lane, but it did. She knocked down a couple of pins on her first try, and more than that on most of the rest of her turns. She didn't even need the bumpers every time.

"You're getting better," Frank told her.

Katie's expression was a delighted one. "I think so, too!"

She clapped for her dad each time he got a strike or a spare.

After the first match was over, Katie needed to use the restroom. "Do you want something to eat?" Frank asked before she went. "It's lunch time."

"Yeah, I'm hungry."

"How about a hot dog?"

"Sure."

While Katie went to the girls' bathroom, Frank went to the food counter and ordered them hot dogs, fries, and sodas. He took the sodas with him and went back to their lane to wait. He looked at the groups of people bowling on each side of them. On one side was a group of four young men, and on the other was a family of three. Both groups were having a good time. The family of three had a boy that looked around Katie's age. Frank tried not to stare at them, but wasn't entirely successful.

The food was brought to Frank just before Katie came back.

"I had to wait in line," Katie said.

Frank sat her food in front of her and she began eating while he took the first turn of the next game.

Of course, Frank won both games. Katie was a good sport about it, and even laughed at herself a number of times. Yet she was definitely improving.

"If we do this more often, you could be beating me soon!" Frank told her somewhat jokingly.

"Yeah!" Katie said.

They played another game of air hockey on the way out, and Katie won that one too, but Frank put up a better fight than earlier.

They went out for ice cream after that, and then returned home for an afternoon of movie-watching, which Frank didn't quite entirely stay awake for, and of listening to Katie play the piano.


	9. Chapter 9

_**9**_

After several paychecks, Heather was ready to move out on her own. Her new job paid quite decently. She'd spent a couple of days looking at apartments and now stood in one she knew she wanted. It was a nice little two bedroom place overlooking the park. It allowed small pets, and Heather wanted a cat. The apartment was also much closer to work than Wayne Manor was.

Heather turned from the bedroom window she'd been gazing out of and returned to the living room, where the smiling apartment manager waited.

"Yes, I want it," Heather said. They had already discussed pricing.

"I could tell you liked it," the woman said. "Shall we go down to my office and get going on the paperwork?"

"Yes," Heather said and followed the woman. Bruce had offered to come along with Heather for her apartment shopping, but Heather had declined the offer. She could and would do it herself, she'd said. Bruce had, however, insisted he would provide some of the furniture and kitchen supplies for her.

After finishing business in the apartment manager's office, Heather left the building and got a taxi. She gazed out the window as the vehicle headed towards Wayne Manor. She knew it was a good thing she was working again and getting ready to live in her own place, but she felt empty. Was this what her life was to be about now, just taking care of herself and getting by?

Well, there was the fact that she worked for Wayne Enterprises, and it was a good company headed by a good man. It was true, her job seemed somewhat soulless, handling paperwork and office errands, but Wayne Enterprises was a respectable company that did good things. At least she wasn't working for one of the many companies out there with bad ethics and bad practices.

Heather decided that as soon as she got moved and settled into her new apartment, she'd begin helping the homeless again. Sure, it would be a little difficult to have time for that now that she was working a regular full time job, but she could at least do it on the weekends. She smiled as she thought about returning to her passion.

The taxicab eventually arrived at Wayne Manor. Heather paid the driver and got out at the gate. As she walked up the long driveway, a breeze stirred the colorful leaves that were beginning to collect on the ground, causing Heather to notice that autumn was setting in.

Alfred greeted her inside and asked if she'd like any refreshments.

"Some ice water would be nice," she said while walking toward the kitchen with him. "But you shouldn't keep waiting on me. I've gotten spoiled, and I'm about to have to start taking care of myself again!"

Alfred chuckled. "Have you found an apartment?" he asked as he held the kitchen door open and they entered. Bruce was sitting in the kitchen reading something.

"Hi, Bruce," Heather greeted him.

"Hello," he said with a smile.

"Yes, I did find one, Alfred," Heather answered and seated herself on a stool next to Bruce.

"Wonderful," Alfred responded as he fetched her ice water.

"An apartment? You've chosen one?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, and I've done the paperwork and paid the deposit," Heather said. "The apartment is ready for move-in." She held up the apartment key and dangled it.

"That's great," Bruce said. "Where is it?"

"Rose Garden Apartments across from the park."

"Oh," Bruce said, knowing which park she meant without asking. "Nice. That's close to work, and lots of things."

"Did you get tired of living out here in the boonies?" Alfred asked, causing Heather and Bruce to laugh.

"I'd never get tired of you guys, Alfred, but a girl's got to grow up and take care of herself sometime," Heather said.

"When do you want to start moving your stuff in?" Bruce asked her.

"I'd like to this week," she answered.

"How about today?" Bruce suggested.

Heather looked at him in surprise for a moment. Bruce chuckled at the look on her face, but she said, "Well, why not? Let's get started."

* * *

Frank sat in his Cougar in the parking lot, waiting silently. He was strategically parked where no lights reached him.

He was in the parking lot of Arkham Asylum, which miraculously wasn't fenced in. The looming structure of the asylum did have a tall, black fence around the building, but he'd happily found that the parking lot was accessible to all.

He'd been by here a few nights already, watching. There was a shift change at one a.m. It was for this he waited.

He looked at his watch. About ten minutes. He moved over to the passenger seat of his car and looked out the rolled-down window.

The first couple of employees for the next shift arrived and headed inside the building. Employees had to arrive before employees could leave. Frank waited.

A few more arrived and went in. Finally, the first leaving employee emerged, soon followed by another. They got into their cars and left. Frank didn't move a muscle.

More left, some of them being picked up by pre-arranged taxis, and then finally the last one (Frank counted) came out alone. Her car was the one nearest to his. Frank reached for the object that sat next to him and aimed it at the woman as she reached her car. As she stood readying her keys to unlock her door, Frank shot.

His aim was good. The tranquilizer hit her in her upper back between the shoulders. She visibly jolted, and almost immediately the chemical took effect, causing her to fall to the ground. Frank wasted no time in getting out of his car, adjusting the front passenger seat forward to allow access to the back, and going to her.

He bound her hands behind her back, tucked the car keys she'd dropped into her coat pocket, and lifted her from the ground. Moving swiftly, he took her to his car and awkwardly maneuvered her into the backseat, where he laid her down.

Then he left.

Just like that, it was done. Quickly. Smoothly.

He drove to his warehouse. He wondered if she would wake up on the way- wake up to the sound of the powerful piano music coming from under the hood and wonder where she was. He kept checking her in the mirror. But no, she remained unconscious.

That made it easy for now. When he reached the warehouse, he made sure no one was around and then got her out of the car. He took her in and tied her up inside, also placing a gag in her mouth. She would wake up alone.

Frank parked his Cougar inside the warehouse, locked up the building, and then left in his other car. He drove home feeling good.

The babysitter told him Katie was fine and had slept the whole time. Frank paid her and then went to check on Katie himself. She was sleeping peacefully.

Frank went to the kitchen for a snack. He was getting his appetite back, finally. He ate and then walked to bed humming.

* * *

Susan Brown opened her eyes to darkness. Her body ached. She was seated on a hard chair and found that she couldn't move her limbs. They were bound.

Susan released a panicked squeal, which was muffled by the gag in her mouth. She struggled frantically for a minute, almost tipping over her chair, then stopped and sat still, breathing heavily.

There was enough faint light- moonlight, it seemed- coming in from the few small, high windows around her to allow her to see vaguely that she was in a large, mostly empty building.

She could make out the vague, dark form of something in a corner, probably a car.

Where was she? What had happened? She remembered walking up to her car after work, and then nothing. Even that seemed like some sort of dream.

Maybe she was dreaming now- yes, this was a dream. She'd made it home from work just fine and was asleep in her bed. She was having a nightmare.

She sat in silence for a moment, hoping that was true. But nothing happened. She tried moving her arms again, but a strong cord around her wrists stopped her. This was all too real. She released another muffled wail.

* * *

Several days passed. About two weeks, in fact. Frank took care of the woman in his warehouse- kept her alive, anyway. His anger toward that place where she worked and everyone there made it impossible for him to feel any sympathy toward her. He went to her only at night- and then sometimes, he went for a pleasure cruise in his Cougar before returning home to his sleeping daughter and his babysitter, who thought Frank had a night job.

Then he decided it was time to act again. He returned to Arkham Asylum, once again under the cover of night. But he was met with the discovery that a security guard now patrolled the large parking lot, driving around continuously.

 _Is it an armed security guard?_ Frank wondered. If not, he ought to be able to take care of him pretty easily. Even if he was armed, Frank could probably take him out with the tranquilizer if he caught him unsuspecting- but dealing with the guard would highly complicate things.

Frank opted to turn away from the parking lot at its entrance where he'd paused. He drove back up the road slightly and parked by a bush, turning his car's lights off. There he waited for the shift change.

He let the first few cars leaving the asylum pass by. Then he chose a car to follow: a dark green Pontiac.

Many of the people working at Arkham lived in apartments in Gotham City, but Frank hoped some of them- particularly the one he was currently following- lived out here closer to the asylum, in a house, where it would be easier to make his move. Less chance of being seen.

But there was no such luck. Before long, it was obvious the car Frank stalked was headed right into Gotham City. He continued to follow, keeping just close enough to maintain visual contact but hanging back enough to hopefully avoid suspicion. He allowed cars to come between them when the chance arose. There wasn't exactly a high amount of traffic at this time of night on a weeknight.

After a little while of traveling Gotham's streets, the Pontiac pulled into the parking area of an apartment complex. Frank followed and immediately started thinking about where to park, not wanting to park right next to the Pontiac. But the Pontiac's driver was out of the car the moment he parked it and was already heading for the building.

Frank stopped his car right where he was and quickly rolled down his window. "Excuse me!" he called out, causing the man to turn. Frank waved and tried to have a friendly look on his face, even though it was dark enough not to really matter until the man was closer.

The man did come closer, slowly and reluctantly. He looked at Frank questioningly. Frank's hand had already moved his tranquilizer gun into his lap.

"Hi. Sorry, I just wanted to ask-"

The man edged closer to listen, and Frank raised his gun. He aimed it and shot as quickly as he could, but the man still had time to turn and begin fleeing. Frank got him nonetheless.

Moving quickly, Frank turned off his Cougar's headlights to avoid drawing any eyes his way. Then he was out of the car gathering up the man and putting him into the backseat. Moving the man proved to be much more awkward and strenuous than moving the woman had been, and it took a little longer, but Frank managed. He cast a look up at the apartment building, not noticing anyone at any windows. Probably no one had heard the Cougar. Just like a normal engine, the piano strings were quieter when driving slowly. Frank left.

* * *

Batman stepped to the edge of a building and looked down into the alley below. No one was there yet. He crouched in the darkness, kept low, and listened.

Several minutes later, a car pulled into the alley and stopped, turning off its lights and engine. This was the first of two parties involved in a drug exchange about to take place.

After a few more minutes, a second car came, entering the alley from the opposite end. It stopped several feet away from the first car, facing it. Batman watched as both drivers emerged from their vehicles and approached each other.

A very thick paper envelope changed hands. After giving the envelope of cash some attention, the envelope's receiver tucked it inside his jacket and led the way to the trunk of his car, which he opened. Batman readied himself. As both men stood looking at the contents of the trunk, they were unaware of the caped figure that landed lightly several feet behind them.

Then Batman was upon them. He swiftly knocked their legs out from under them, bringing both men thudding to the ground. Getting one into a careful choke hold, he quickly brought him to unconsciousness and then pounced on the other. This one managed to try to fight back, but Batman dealt him a heavy punch and flipped him onto his stomach so that he could bind his hands behind his back. The man broke down and blurted fearful apologies to Batman.

"Quiet," Batman said. "Let's go."

He took both men to the nearby police station, where Commissioner Gordon was there late, waiting. Gordon had sent men from his force after this drug dealer before, but the officer in charge of that bust had come back to Gordon empty-handed and suddenly had enough money to purchase a houseboat soon after.

Batman left the police station and went on his way. After a little while of traveling via alleys and rooftops, he heard something unexpected and paused to listen. Classical music. Was it real or imagined? Walking to the front of the rooftop he was on, he looked to the street and caught a quick glimpse of a dark vehicle as it went down the road and disappeared, the music going with it.

Batman turned away and continued.

* * *

Susan Brown opened her eyes to the sound of piano music again. She hadn't been sleeping, just sitting with her eyes closed. She knew what the music meant. The man was back. The music stopped outside and then she heard the warehouse's large side door rolling open. Light shined in- headlights. Susan squinted.

She saw the man get back into the vehicle and then he pulled it inside. He closed the warehouse door behind him, switched on some of the lights inside, and then, to Susan's surprise, he removed a human body from the vehicle. Susan's eyes widened with fright.

The kidnapper placed the man's limp body in a chair and bound him, as he had done to Susan. Susan felt mildly relieved that the limp body was not dead, but not _very_ relieved. It didn't help her situation a whole lot.


	10. Chapter 10

_**10**_

It was a strange case indeed, police Commissioner James Gordon reflected. Five Arkham Asylum employees were missing now. Each had apparently disappeared without a trace. When the first one failed to come in to work, her boss and coworkers assumed she'd quit, until someone pointed out that her car was out in the parking lot. More employees failed to come in to work in the following days and weeks. As more were reported missing to the police- some by family, some by calls from their boss at Arkham- the common theme of Arkham employees disappearing quickly became apparent. Five now. Maybe more to come.

No coworkers knew a thing, no family members knew a thing, and no neighbors did either. No evidence anywhere. Nothing.

Gordon was feeling ready to call in the man who'd become his best detective: Batman. But after Gordon's session of answering questions for reporters earlier today and the news stories they were now running, he suspected Batman would come to _him._

Jim tapped a pencil on his desk thoughtfully. He had his suspicions, alright. There were a couple or a few patients, or residents- whatever they called them- heck, _criminals-_ in Arkham Asylum that were quite powerful with lots of connections in the city, and could sometimes cause things to happen even from within the asylum. One infamous person in particular came to Jim's mind.

There was a knock on his office door.

"Come in," he said.

In came Aaron Pratt and Sean White. They were back from questioning people in the apartment building of the latest person to disappear. Gordon himself hadn't been back at the station for long after spending a while with some of his men "investigating" at Arkham Asylum. It was becoming clearer and clearer after each disappearance that such efforts were fruitless.

Gordon stood from his desk chair. "Anything?" he asked.

"Nothing," Pratt answered.

Gordon slammed his fist down on his desk.

* * *

Nightfall was approaching. Gordon planned to switch on the bat signal on the roof soon after it got dark. Right now, he was going to smoke.

Smoking was often a social thing here at the station. People gathered in the lounge downstairs to do it. Not that nobody smoked in their offices- there was no rule not to- but Jim and many others were in the habit of smoking together.

This time, Gordon stepped out to the tiny balcony outside his office to smoke alone and lit his cigarette. He gazed at the street below and watched the cars pass by. The fresh air was nice. It was late October, and temperatures were cooling down. The few trees in the city were losing their leaves.

"Gordon."

Jim jumped a little at the sudden sound of his name being spoken, then turned, already knowing who it was. Batman was on the balcony with him.

"Batman," Gordon responded.

"The Arkham employee disappearances," Batman said. "What do you have to go on?"

Gordon shook his head. "Nothing."

They looked at each other silently for a moment.

"Nothing except my gut feeling," Jim added.

"And? What's that telling you?"

"This smells like the Joker to me."

Batman was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Who are the missing?"

"Hold on," Gordon said and stepped back into his office. He already had a copy of the list of names and their addresses that he'd made specifically for Batman. He retrieved this from his desk and hurried back outside, knowing he couldn't keep Batman waiting long and expect him to still be there.

Gordon found him still on the balcony and handed him the list. Then he turned to the street and continued to smoke.

"You know, it's-" Gordon stopped his sentence short when he turned to look at Batman again and realized he was now alone on the balcony.

* * *

Batman intended to look into Gordon's Joker theory. At least, that would be his next step after doing a little preliminary investigating of his own.

The first thing he did was search the apartments of the missing Arkham employees himself. At least, he went to three of them, the ones which lived alone. He did this at night. Nothing in any of those apartments pointed toward the kidnapping having taken place there. No clues were revealed even when Batman scanned the area with his custom devices. He also failed to find any useful information in the form of papers or belongings in the apartments. He touched things minimally with his gloved hands and made sure to leave the apartments in the same state he'd found them in.

The police had already spoken to family, neighbors, and coworkers. Batman would have left that job to them, anyway.

This case didn't exactly smell like Joker to Batman. Joker was usually very theatrical and non-secretive, leaving no doubt about who was responsible for his crimes. But he was also extremely clever, and it was possible this was just the beginning to some intricate scheme of his. Gordon was an experienced cop, and his gut feeling must be worth something.

The next night, Batman made the drive to Arkham Asylum and parked his batmobile outside, activating the shields that would protect it from anyone who got it in their mind to tamper with the sleek, black vehicle.

Soon he was inside and on his way to see Joker.

It wasn't his first time visiting the asylum. He was known to the staff, who had instructions from Gordon to cooperate with him.

And so he was soon in a visiting room with his old nemesis.

"Well, if it isn't my old buddy-pal!" Joker greeted him in his usual animated tone.

Batman said nothing at first. Joker's hands were cuffed behind him for the visit, and a guard stood watch in the corner. There were surely more watching via the security camera mounted on the ceiling.

Joker's face was devoid of his characteristic makeup, but it was not quite the first time Batman had seen him this way.

Two chairs sat in the room, with no glass partition between them. Neither man sat in the chairs.

"How ya been, Bats?" Joker asked, using his favorite nickname for Batman.

"Where are they?" Batman asked firmly.

"Where are _what?_ The brains of the people around here? Don't ask me, Bats. I haven't got a clue!" He laughed.

"The missing Arkham employees," Batman stated.

"There are employees missing? How dreadful!"

Batman slowly walked up to Joker and looked him closely in the eye.

"Those are _people,_ Joker. Those are human beings with families."

"My dear Bat, whatever's going on, you're barking up the wrong tree. This clown's got no idea about any missing employees."

Batman continued to glare into Joker's eyes. Joker remained where he stood despite Batman's imposing frame leaning over him.

"I really wouldn't worry, Bats. They probably just quit. Would _you_ want to work in a madhouse like this?" Joker asked, laughing again.

Batman spoke. "You know if you're behind this, I'll find out. And you know I'll throw a wrench in your plans."

"Oooh, I almost wish I _was_ behind it, Bats, because it sounds like fun. It could be like old times!" He smiled eerily.

Batman turned to leave.

"Leaving so soon? A three-minute visit is all I get? Come on, it's so seldom they let me out to play!" Guards moved in on Joker.

"Come on, Bats, why don't you check in? You know you belong in this place! Yes, and the pillows are always fluffed!"

Batman walked down the hallway, leaving the sound of Joker's laughter behind him. Every employee in the building that wasn't busy- and some that were- had managed to place themselves along Batman's route to leave the building so they could stare at him on his way out.

Soon he was in the batmobile and gone.

Batman wasn't at all sure Joker was behind the disappearances, of course, but he'd confronted him with confidence on the matter nonetheless. He'd never expected Joker to give an honest answer, although it was possible that he did. Batman had been hoping he'd be able to read Joker's reactions to his questions fairly well. He'd known the criminal long enough that it'd make sense to have a degree of understanding of him, a way to read him.

There was no such luck. Batman was no more or less sure of Joker's involvement than he'd been before the visit.

* * *

Next, Batman tracked down and confronted a couple of Joker's known associates, lower criminals who often did his bidding. They were frequently in and out of jail and, when out, seldom stayed in the same place for long.

Batman gained no information from them either, despite them being terribly intimidated by him. Batman was doubting more and more whether there _was_ any information to be found along this trail of investigation. Perhaps he was, indeed, barking up the wrong tree.


	11. Chapter 11

_**11**_

Before Frank knew it, Halloween was coming again. It didn't seem long ago at all that he and Sarah had helped Katie dress up as Tinkerbell for last Halloween.

This year, she wanted to be a cat. Frank had really hoped to get a store-bought costume, but it proved surprisingly difficult to find one, especially one that Katie liked and that fit.

Frank became resigned to the fact that he'd have to make the costume, and he'd have to do it in a little over a week. It was a good thing he had plenty of free time now. They managed to find a plain black suit- a leotard, was it? Frank wasn't sure, but it was fairly tight and black and had full leg and arm sleeves. They also found a little mask with a cat nose and whiskers to strap to Katie's face. Frank had to get creative for the ears and tail, though.

He found a black plastic headband, and then, after looking at a couple of toy stores, he found a large, black stuffed panther. He bought it and, telling himself to make sure Katie didn't find out about how he'd made this part of the costume, he carefully cut off the ears to glue to the headband, and also cut off the tail to stitch to the suit. He knew there was probably some way for him to create the ears and tail himself instead of mutilating this stuffed animal, but this project was crafty enough for him without doing all that.

One day after school, while Katie was sitting in the living room watching TV and cuddling with her pink Robbie rabbit, he brought out the finished costume.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, standing and leaving Robbie behind on the couch. "You finished it!" She moved quickly to where her father stood with the costume.

Frank smiled at her excitement. She touched and moved it with her hands, looking it over. Then she snatched the headband with ears and placed it on her head.

"You did such a good job, Dad!" she said. "I'm gonna try it on."

"Please do," Frank said, handing her the suit and the mask. She ran off to her bedroom with it. Frank got his camera and waited in the living room.

A few minutes later she emerged in-costume. "Meow!" she said.

Frank laughed. "You look great."

Spotting the camera, Katie posed and let him take a couple of photos.

Then she ran to him and threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Thanks, Dad!" she said.

"You're welcome," he said as he hugged her back.

After a moment she stepped back and proclaimed, "I can't wait for Halloween!"

* * *

"I don't like Halloween," Bruce said calmly.

"Is that because on this day, everyone else dons costumes too? Can't have Batman looking trendy, can we?" Alfred said with a smile.

Bruce just glared at him, although not with real anger. They both knew why Batman wasn't a fan of Halloween. A lot of people engaged in crime and mischief on that night, and it wasn't always minor.

Bruce wasn't in costume at the moment, but he would be soon. It wasn't dark yet, but he was about to head down to the batcave and suit up. He'd be on patrol tonight, and he couldn't start too early.

Bruce nodded toward the two huge bowls of candy near the front door in the foyer. Despite being located a bit out of the way for many Gotham trick-or-treaters, Wayne Manor got no shortage of them. It was a popular place to go and was well known to be generous with the good candy it handed out. Alfred, of course, would be handling candy distribution.

"Have fun," Bruce said as he nodded at the candy.

"Always, Master Bruce," Alfred said. He did enjoy children.

As Bruce turned away to leave the foyer and head for the bat cave, Alfred said, "Be careful, sir."

"Always, Alfred."

* * *

Frank walked to the living room and stopped in the doorway. Katie was playing the piano and had been at it steadily since they'd finished dinner close to an hour ago. Frank had listened while he washed the dishes, sat on the couch, and then put away some clean laundry in the bedrooms. He'd become quite the domestic man, improving with the household chores each week.

Now he leaned on the door frame and waited for Katie to finish the current song. When she did, she stopped and looked at her father.

"Is it time to go?" she asked.

Frank nodded. "Are you ready to get into costume?"

"Yeah." Katie headed to her bedroom, smiling.

Frank grabbed his shoes and sat on the couch to put them on. After he had one on and was reaching for the other, the doorbell rang. Frank looked at the door. Must be their first trick-or-treater of the night.

Frank had set a couple of bags of candy near the door to give to the trick-or-treaters that came by after they got back. He hadn't really expected any to come before they left, but he walked to the door in his single shoe anyway. He opened it to see two children, one dressed as a pirate and the other as a fairy.

"Trick or treat," they said.

Frank smiled and dropped a piece of candy into each of their bags.

They thanked him and turned away. Their parents were waiting back by the street.

"Happy Halloween," Frank said before closing the door.

He went back to the couch and put his other shoe on. Katie entered the room in her costume soon after.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning around in a full circle.

"Like a genuine feline," Frank answered as he stood up.

Katie frowned. "A what?"

Frank laughed. "A cat."

"Oh." Katie scurried to pick up her trick-or-treating bag from the coffee table, and Frank grabbed his keys and jacket.

"Ready?" Frank asked.

"Yes!" Katie said with an enthusiastic nod.

Frank was careful to switch off all the lights so it would be apparent no one was home. Any trick-or-treaters that came while they were gone would be out of luck.

They stepped out to the porch, and when Frank discovered it wasn't chilly out, he stepped back in to hang up his jacket.

He came back to the porch to find Katie waiting with her arms crossed. Frank laughed, locked the door, and they set off on foot down the street.

* * *

Heather stood at the window in her apartment's living room, gazing down at the two streets she could see below. The streets and sidewalks were pretty busy, as usual, but tonight some of the people she saw going by were in costume. Not only children, but adults, too.

It was so strange, Heather thought, that on this day it was considered perfectly normal to go around dressed as something absurd. You could be dressed as anything or anyone at all and no one would give it a second thought when they passed you. Things that would normally make most people go running and screaming were accepted as normal on this night.

Some people opted for scary costumes- those were Heather's favorites- while some chose humorous ones, and others preferred sensual ones. Heather noticed the variety of those passing by. She wondered where they were all going. Many were probably going to parties, and those with kids would be going trick-or-treating. Halloween was quite popular in Gotham with people of all ages.

Heather, though, wasn't going anywhere tonight. She had worn orange and black to work earlier, and that was all the celebrating she'd be doing other than watching a horror movie or two on TV. One was starting in just a few minutes, an old one with Vincent Price.

Heather had already realized a while ago that Halloween wouldn't ever be the same again without her daughter.

Heather heard her popcorn finish popping and hurried to the kitchen to stop the microwave. She poured herself a bowl of popcorn, also grabbing a soda before settling into her favorite spot on her couch in front of the television.

* * *

As Frank and Katie went up to each house, Frank waited to the side of each porch while Katie went to the doors for her candy. All the people who answered the doors smiled largely at her and seemed to think she was very cute in her costume. Frank watched proudly as they complimented her and she thanked them each time before scampering off with her candy.

Katie delighted in seeing the other children who were out in costume, and she pointed and laughed when she spotted an adult in a dinosaur costume.

After a while she asked, "How long can we stay out? Can we stay out all night?"

Frank laughed. "No way." He wanted to be back home before more of the obnoxious older kids were out and about.

"Please?" Katie was serious.

"They don't even hand out candy that long, Katie," Frank said. "People go to bed."

He looked inside her candy bag. It was approaching halfway full.

"We can stay out until your bag is full. Sound good?"

Katie smiled. "Yeah!" She plucked out a piece of candy, unwrapped it, and put it in her mouth.

Frank laughed. "But you can't just keep eating the candy all night."

Katie giggled and then ran up to the next porch.

A little while later when Katie's bag was nearly full, Frank was about to start guiding their path back toward their house when Katie asked something interesting.

"Dad, is that _Batman?_ " Katie said.

Frank didn't see what she was talking about. It was pretty dark now and there were a lot of people out and about.

"He was just there," Katie said. To Frank's surprise, she pointed upward to a rooftop rather than down at the street level. He looked up at the high townhouse rooftops and still didn't see anything.

"Batman isn't real, Sweetie," Frank told her. "I'm sure it's just someone having fun for Halloween."


	12. Chapter 12

_**12**_

Soon it was eight. Eight Arkham Asylum employees had gone missing. Reporters on TV were questioning whether the asylum would stay open. Arkham's head staff refused to comment, but Police Commissioner Gordon assured the inquisitive reporters that the large asylum was not closing down and that measures were being taken for its protection.

Gordon didn't go into detail publicly about these measures, but at all times now there was an increased number of security guards on duty both inside the asylum and outside around it, and two police officers were now stationed inside. During nighttime hours, a police vehicle also patrolled outside around the asylum, including a portion of the secluded road leading to the asylum.

Heather watched a news reporter on her TV screen talking about it. The reporter pointed out that the problem with increasing security measures for the asylum was that the disappearances- except perhaps the first one- seemed not to have taken place at the asylum itself.

Heather changed the channel with a sigh. She felt a little bit obligated to watch the news sometimes in order to be a somewhat informed adult, but she hated the news. It tended to make her either angry or depressed.

It was such a grievous thing what humans had turned their existence into. At least she was in a position to help others again, to do what she could. She'd just gotten back to her apartment not long ago from an evening of working at a soup kitchen for the homeless. Whenever she worked on the serving line, she always talked with the homeless people coming through and made friends with those that came regularly. Tonight she'd sat down and eaten with some of them before leaving for home. Eventually she wanted to do more than volunteering at soup kitchens like this, but right now, she didn't know how.

She looked over at her new little kitten that was sleeping curled up on the other end of the couch, nestled in the corner. She smiled at him, a little black ball of fur. She'd only had him a few days now. She'd chosen the name Wayne for him, in honor of her late friend Martha Wayne and in thanks to Bruce Wayne for his help.

* * *

As Frank and Katie sat down on the couch with a snack one afternoon after school and Frank was reaching for the TV remote, he paused while looking at Katie.

"Why do you keep smiling?" he asked her.

"Isn't smiling good?" she responded playfully.

"Well, yes, but why are you smiling so much? Ever since I picked you up from school!"

Katie giggled, leaned over to reach her backpack which sat on the floor, and pulled out a paper. This she handed to Frank.

"Oh, your report card! Is it that time already?" He scanned over the grades her teacher had given her in all the subjects.

"Wow, you did great!" Frank said. Then he slapped her with the paper. "When were you going to tell me? We could have gotten ice cream or something on the way home!"

Katie laughed. "I wanted to surprise you!"

"Do you want to go out to dinner to celebrate?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, if I get to pick the restaurant!"

"Of course!"

* * *

Frank had a great evening with Katie. She chose a restaurant that had been a long-time favorite of theirs. Being there again for the first time in a while put Frank in a wonderful mood, and he and Katie stayed there for quite a while talking and laughing. Some of the staff, although polite, got a little annoyed at them for staying so long at one of their best tables. Frank scarcely took notice.

Finally they left not long before the restaurant closed. They went home and played board games for a little while, still having a great time, until Frank sent Katie to bed.

After she was in bed, Frank paced in the house. He was feeling active tonight, and really... alive. This wasn't a night for staying home.

Tonight would be the night.

He hadn't arranged for a babysitter tonight, but he would go out anyway. He locked up the house and went to the car.

His adrenaline was pumping during the whole drive to the warehouse. He'd already thought quite a bit about what he was about to do, but it had always just seemed like a distant plan. Now he was about to do it.

 _This is real,_ he told himself as he drove along quickly. _This is real!_

While at the restaurant earlier, that place had struck him as an ideal location for his upcoming deed. He hadn't been focusing on that during the whole evening with Katie, but he realized the idea had been in the back of his mind, amping him up throughout the evening.

That restaurant was one of his family's favorite places, so this would mean something. He'd been deprived of Sarah's presence there tonight and forever. She'd never be able to participate in another fun evening with her family there again.

Finally he pulled up at the warehouse. Susan Brown and the others inside raised their heads and opened their eyes at the sound of the arriving car and car door. Soon the warehouse door opened and shut, and the familiar man turned some of the lights on. Susan didn't try to move or yell. She'd been there in the warehouse the longest, and she was tired, weak, and sore. She assumed the man was here to feed them again and to let them use the bathroom.

But instead, he went up to one of the tied up men and began to untie him from his chair. Only the first few people that had been tied up in the warehouse were tied to chairs. The rest were bound on the floor.

Keeping the man's hands and feet tied, the kidnapper forced the man to his feet and then to hop awkwardly over to the vehicle that was parked in the warehouse, the one that the kidnapper drove out sometimes and that always had piano music coming from it when driven.

The man tried to yell and scream as he was forced into the trunk of the vehicle, but the gag in his mouth severely muffled his efforts and he, too, was tired and weak. The trunk lid closed over him.

The kidnapper departed in the vehicle, turning the warehouse lights off before he went. The several people remaining in there were again cast into darkness, left alone in silence and fear after the sound of the piano music drifted away with the departing car.

* * *

Frank pulled into the restaurant's parking lot twenty-four minutes later. He parked and looked at his watch. It was a quarter till midnight. Still early.

Well, not _early,_ but not late enough.

True, the parking lot was empty and there were not many people out and about in this area at this time, with most of the businesses in the immediate vicinity already having closed for the night, but Frank would wait a while anyway. The later he waited, the less chance he'd have of people passing by. He leaned his seat back a bit, shut his eyes, and tried to doze off for a nap.

He didn't. He was too amped up to sleep.

He made himself wait until a little past one a.m., and then he opened his car door. He looked around as he rose out of the driver's seat, seeing and hearing no one.

It was a beautiful night, a little cloudy and chilly, but still nice. The moon looked spectacular as it peeked through the clouds.

Frank calmly went to the trunk of his Cougar and opened it. The man inside looked up at him with wide eyes.

Before proceeding, Frank remembered a couple things up in the front of the car that he needed to grab. He got the pair of gloves he'd brought and pulled them up over his hands. He also retrieved a piano wire he'd brought and then returned to his man in the trunk.

The man had worked his way into a sitting position in the trunk and was looking around. Frank scowled a little, but said nothing.

Frank yanked the guy out of the trunk and then dragged him, since dragging was a little bit easier than having the bound man awkwardly hop and shuffle at slow speed towards the restaurant building.

* * *

A little before eleven a.m., Bruce awoke in his room. His room was dark, and instead of flipping on a light switch, he opened a curtain slightly so a little sunlight filtered in.

He pressed the button on his bedroom's intercom. "Alfred?"

Alfred's voice came out of the speaker several seconds later. "Good morning, Master Bruce. Ready for your breakfast?"

"Yes."

"I'll be up with it in a moment, sir."

"Thanks, Alfred."

Before leaving his room, Bruce dropped to the floor and did push-ups for a few minutes. Then he left the room and, at first squinting at the light that poured in from the hall windows, made his way to the living room. He sat on the sofa and Alfred entered the room just as he was turning on the TV.

"How are you this fine morning, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he set up the food in front of where Bruce sat.

"Fine, Alfred. And you?"

"I'm well, sir. I went for a walk outside this morning. It really is lovely out. Weather's supposed to turn nasty later, though."

Bruce smiled a little at Alfred, then looked at his food. "It looks good."

"Time to see what's going on in the city, I presume?" Alfred said, glancing at the eleven o'clock news program that was coming on the TV screen.

Bruce nodded and chewed his food. Alfred excused himself from the room.

The first thing that came onto the news made Bruce stop chewing and nearly spit out his food.

* * *

James Gordon jumped at the sound of knocking on glass coming from the direction of his office balcony. He turned his head. Batman.

Jim rose from his desk chair, which he'd just settled into moments ago. What a hectic day it had been so far. Even more hectic than usual. As he crossed the distance to his balcony door, he thought with amusement how insane this situation was. He, commissioner of police in Gotham City, was welcoming a man in a dark, caped, bat-like costume, a man whose identity he still didn't know, for a chat at his office. This man standing at his balcony door was one of the very few around here who'd earned Gordon's respect and trust. This man was more reliable, trustworthy, skilled, and clever than anyone on Gotham's police force.

Jim slid the door open. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you," he said.

"I heard you found one of the missing Arkham employees," Batman said.

"Yes, but not how we wanted to find him," Jim responded.

"I'd like a chance to examine the crime scene myself. Alone, and as soon as possible."

Gordon was silent for a moment. Then he said, "So far, it's looking like the killer left no clues."

"But can you make it happen?" Batman knew Gordon could. " _Will_ you?"

Gordon looked at him and nodded.

* * *

The man, Edward Blake, had been hung in front of the restaurant with a long wire. There was quite a bit of blood on the ground from the wire digging into his neck. It didn't take Batman long to deduce the wire was from a piano, based on its size and the appearance of the ends of the wire. A scan with one of his devices told him it was tempered high carbon steel, consistent with his impression of it being a piano string. Why a piano string? And why a restaurant?

As for any other clues left by the killer... none.


	13. Chapter 13

_**13**_

"Phone call for you, Master Bruce," Alfred said from the doorway.

Bruce set down the book he'd been reading. "Thanks, Alfred." He stood and went to pick up the phone, an antique rotary-dial phone. Bruce of course had more modern phones as well, but this one was his favorite and had been in his family for quite a while.

"Hello?"

"Hi Bruce. This is Heather."

Bruce smiled. "Hi Heather. How are you? And how's that kitten?"

"Wayne is doing great, and I'm fine too, but I have an idea that would make me even better."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's something I want to talk with you about. Are you free this evening? Could we maybe meet for dinner?"

"Sure, we could do that. Where did you have in mind?"

"There's a Chinese buffet on 8th Street. I know it's not fancy, but-"

"I know it. Sounds great. What time?"

"Six o'clock?"

"I'll be there."

* * *

Heather had gotten there several minutes early and had just been seated at a table when she spotted Bruce walking into the restaurant. They smiled at each other as he approached.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hello."

They both knew this wasn't a date. It wasn't that kind of relationship. Heather knew Bruce must be wondering what they were here to talk about, but first she said, "Shall we get our food?"

"Of course."

They took a few minutes at the buffet bars, filling their plates with delicious looking food.

Once they were seated and had begun enjoying their meal, Heather spoke.

"So, I've been working at some soup kitchens again when I can, and I'm really enjoying it."

"That's great," Bruce said. "I know that type of thing is your passion, and I admire you for it."

Heather finished chewing her bite and swallowed it. "Thanks. Well, I really want to do something more than that. I want to give more of my life to helping the homeless and the poor than just a couple of evenings a week when I'm not too tired from working at my secretarial job. I mean, don't get me wrong. I really appreciate the job you've given me at Wayne Enterprises! But I just feel the need to do something..."

"Something more up your alley?"

"Yes!" Heather paused for a moment, thinking about how to proceed. Bruce could see she was not done speaking and waited patiently, eating.

"I know that in addition to having many more... uh... regular business branches, Wayne Enterprises is involved with a number of noble activities, such as medicine research and contributing to charities."

"Yes," Bruce said.

"And of course, you know of my friendship with your mother- with _both_ of your parents." Bruce was smiling and nodding. "So, I'm well aware that Wayne Enterprises is a _good_ company. But I... well, I was wondering if maybe it couldn't do something more. Something more directly up _my_ alley."

Bruce looked interested. Heather was a bit nervous, but she continued.

"What about a branch that could be specifically devoted to helping the homeless?"

Bruce's expression was still an interested one. "You mean running soup kitchens?"

"Yes," Heather said, "but not only. I mean something a bit... more. To really give them help in their lives, you know? More than just going 'Here's a meal.' "

"That sounds great. But what did you have in mind? What more?"

"Well, for one thing, maybe some kind of job placement services? I don't know. I know we can't make Wayne Enterprises lose money, but I also know that would be very hard to do. From my work there, I've learned that it always has _quite_ a bit of extra money, and-"

"And that there have been debates on something new to do with it."

"Yes. I know we'd still have to be careful in the planning and working it out, and I don't know much about how those details work..."

"Heather, I love the idea."

"Really?" Relief and joy washed over her in a giant wave of emotion. Only now upon feeling that did she realize how nervous and worried she'd been, and unnecessarily so. Her face transformed into a huge smile.

"Yes, really," Bruce said. "I'll work on getting a board meeting set up in regards to it."

Heather didn't know what to say. He had basically just said yes to her life dream. Oh, she knew that having a board meeting didn't necessarily mean it'd work out, but this was still a big first step, and it meant a lot to have the support of Bruce Wayne- both on a practical/business level and on a personal level.

Bruce laughed at the expression on her face. "You're welcome. Now stop gaping in disbelief and eat your dinner."

Heather laughed happily and did so.

* * *

Frank found that he felt almost like a new person after his kill. He felt revived, and he felt in control of his life again. He felt calmer and happier. Before he'd done it, he'd been wondering in the back of his mind if he'd be able to go through with the deed.

But now there was a sense of contentment as the universe, from Frank's perspective, was becoming more balanced. The people- at least some of them- who were basically responsible for Sarah's death were being punished. That was how things were supposed to work, and that's what was happening. Things were good.

Soon it was Thanksgiving. Frank had gotten a phone call from his friend and former boss, Peter.

 _How are you doing?_ Peter had asked.

 _Fine, fine,_ Frank had said.

 _Really? Are you really fine?_ Peter had asked.

 _Actually, yes. I'm doing quite better._

 _That's great. What've you been doing with yourself?_

 _Oh, just spending time with Katie, and doing some projects... you know._

 _Good, good. Do you and Katie want to come over for Thanksgiving dinner?_

Frank had paused when Peter had asked that. He'd closed his eyes, a wave of emotion threatening to sweep over him. But no, he wouldn't let it.

 _Sure, that sounds great,_ he'd said.

Now it was Thanksgiving Day, and he and Katie were in the car on their way.

Katie fiddled with the radio controls, trying to find a station that was playing something to her liking.

"We'll be there by the time you find a station," Frank said.

Katie giggled a little. "So?" she said while continuing to lean forward pressing buttons.

"Hey, be careful with that," Frank said, speaking of the dish in her lap.

"I am, Dad," she said.

The large dish contained deviled eggs that Frank had made. It was his first time making them, and they had turned out quite well.

Soon they pulled up in front of a house and Frank parked the car. "We're here," he said.

Looking through the car window, Katie gazed up at the house in awe. "I forgot how big it was!" she said. Katie had been there a couple of times before, but it had been a while.

"Yep, it's a big house," Frank said. He reached over and took the dish of deviled eggs from her. "Let's go."

They walked up the rather long driveway and over to the front door.

"Why do they have such a big house?" Katie asked. "Don't they only have two kids?"

"Shh," Frank hushed her. He was about to press the doorbell when the door swung open, startling him a little bit.

Peter stood there. He smiled. "Frank!" He gestured for Frank to step inside, then gave him a friendly hug. Frank hugged back lightly, holding his dish of deviled eggs awkwardly yet carefully. Peter always had been rather informal.

Next Peter looked down at Katie, still smiling. "Hi, Katie. How are you?"

"Hi. Hungry," she answered.

Peter laughed as he shut the front door behind them. "I think we can do something about that. Dinner still has a little longer to cook, but we have plenty of snacks out."

"Now you have more," Frank said, holding up his dish.

"Ah, yes," Peter said. "We've been waiting for the deviled eggs." He led the way to the kitchen.

His wife Laura greeted them. "Hi, guys!" She took the dish from Frank. "Thank you for bringing these!"

"Oh, no trouble," Frank said. "It's the least I could do."

"Kids, the deviled eggs are here!" Laura called. Their two children, both older than Katie, came into the kitchen from the living room. They said hello and immediately grabbed some deviled eggs.

"Guess what was just on the news?" Anthony, their son, said.

"What?" Peter responded.

"Batman."

Everyone looked at Anthony.

"Batman?" Peter asked his son. "Batman was on the news?"

"Well, no, but they talked about him," Anthony said. "They say someone said they spotted him at a crime scene. They think he's helping the police."

"But there was no footage or photos showing him?" Frank asked.

"No," Tara, Peter's daughter, answered.

"That's because there is no Batman," Frank said. "He's not real."

"How do you know?" Katie asked.

"Come on. A Batman? And there's just no evidence of him. He's just a myth," Frank said.

"I'd say so too, kids," Peter agreed.

 _"_ Pshh. Adults. What do they know?" Anthony said as he grabbed another deviled egg and turned back towards the living room.

"Want to come watch TV, Katie?" Tara asked.

"Sure," Katie said, grabbing handfuls of snacks before she followed them out.

The adults chuckled.

"Kids will believe in just about anything," Laura said.

"They sure will," Frank agreed.

* * *

Later that night, after enjoying the evening at Peter's house and eating lots of food, and after Katie was in bed, Frank left. It was too short of notice to get the babysitter to come, but he'd make sure he wasn't gone long, he thought as he drove to the warehouse.


	14. Chapter 14

_**14**_

Bruce sat in his bat cave leaning forward over some papers. He looked back and forth between the computer screen next to him and the papers he was working on.

Then the news program that was on one of the few small TV screens near him caught his attention. He'd been ignoring most of what was being said on the news program, but now a reporter was talking about a murder. Bruce's face grew grim as he gazed at the screen. It was another murder done with a wire.

* * *

This one was found along the side of a lonely road, specifically the road leading to Arkham Asylum. This victim was a woman and was another one of the missing Arkham employees. She was discovered by an Arkham nurse who was driving home in the early morning hours. The victim was sitting on the ground with her arms raised above her head. Her wrists were bound by a piano wire attached to the lamp post her body leaned against, and the wire had dug deeply into her wrists, causing her to bleed to death.

Gordon shuddered once again, for about the seventh time this morning, as he stood off to the side of the scene. He knew he was supposed to be a weathered cop, tough and maybe even calloused. But that was all rubbish. Nobody could get used to this. Nobody in their right mind could get used to the grotesque, depraved things like this that evil people did.

This time, the killer did leave something behind. Hair. It appeared the victim had managed to pull out a handful of her killer's hair. Some of it still stuck to the victim's hand, and some was on the ground, mercifully not swept away entirely by the breeze. Not that this evidence would likely do them much good right now unless the DNA from the hair matched someone they already had on file. It would be a little while before Gordon received word on that.

When Batman asked Gordon to give him a portion of the hair sample before it went for forensic analysis, Gordon hesitated. When Batman informed Gordon that he had his own criminal database to run it through and check for matches, a bewildered Gordon allowed Batman to take some of the hairs.

Now Gordon looked up at the cloudy sky, hearing some faint rumblings of thunder. He gazed at the sky for a couple of minutes, looking down occasionally to the several reporters being held at bay by yellow crime scene tape.

"We're almost done here," one of his men said from close by, causing Gordon to jump a little. He hadn't noticed the officer's approach.

Gordon looked back at his people working the scene. There were less of them now, and they were wrapping things up.

"Shall we return to the station?" the officer asked. Gordon had driven to the scene with this officer, the second time today he'd come to the scene of the crime.

Since Gordon hadn't been doing anything here for a while now, he answered, "Yes. Let's go."

* * *

It was a long meeting, and it was rather frustrating to Bruce that the meeting was on the afternoon of the same day as the new murder. But then again, it was probably good for him to have something else to do while his computer system in the bat cave was searching for matches to the hair. Even his powerful system took a while for such a thing.

He focused on the meeting and the matter at hand. When it finally ended and he walked out, he was smiling. He needed to tell Heather the news.

Bruce took an elevator to another floor and walked to the office where he knew Heather would be working. He knocked and greeted Mr. Gucci, the man at the desk inside. Heather was nowhere to be seen.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?" Mr. Gucci asked as he rose to his feet.

"Actually, I was looking for Heather. I have some news for her."

"I just sent her down the hall to fax something. She should be back any-"

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," Heather said from behind Bruce. She referred to him properly as Mr. Wayne whenever at work.

Bruce turned to the doorway and smiled. "Hi, Heather."

"How are you today?" she asked him.

"I'm fine. I'd like to see you in my office."

"Certainly." Heather walked over to set some papers down on the desk.

"Nothing bad, I hope," her boss, Mr. Gucci, said from behind his desk.

"Don't worry," Bruce said. "It's not." He and Heather went for the door.

"Excuse us, Mr. Gucci," Bruce said before leaving.

"Of course," Mr. Gucci responded.

Bruce and Heather took the elevator and made their way to Bruce's office.

Bruce shut the door and then walked over to his desk, not sitting behind it but leaning against the front of it.

Heather looked at him expectantly. Bruce looked back at her with a serious expression, and after a moment he spoke.

"We had the meeting today."

Heather knew immediately what meeting he was talking about. The company board members had discussed her idea.

Heather swallowed hard. "And? What happened?" she asked.

"Your idea has been approved." He smiled.

For several seconds, Heather was speechless. Then she rushed forward and embraced Bruce in a hug. After a moment, still hugging, she said, "It feels like I'm dreaming!" Then she let go and, looking at him, asked, "Is this really happening?"

"Yes. Your dream is really going to happen."

Heather smiled, tears in her eyes. Then she slapped Bruce lightly on the shoulder. "You had me expecting the worst, acting so serious like that!" she scolded, but was still smiling.

Bruce laughed.

"So... how do we go about this?" Heather asked.

"We'll start on the details at a meeting next Wednesday. And _you're_ going to be at that meeting," Bruce said. Heather smiled.

"Another thing. You'd better let Mr. Gucci know he'll need to find a new secretary soon- assuming you'll want to work full time in the branch of Wayne Enterprises that you've founded."

"Oh, I... I will!" Heather's hands went to her cheeks. "I just can't believe this!"

"But for now, you'd better get back to work," Bruce said with a smile.

* * *

Alfred met Bruce inside the front door as soon as he got home. He had news for Bruce, but first he was hoping for some good news from _him._

"Hello, Master Bruce. How did the meeting go?"

"It went great, Alfred. Heather's idea has been approved, and a new branch of the company will be formed."

Alfred's hands joined together in a clap. "Oh, wonderful! I'm happy not only for Heather, but also that the company will be doing this."

"I feel that way, too."

"I can't think of another big company in the world that would do such a thing. Wayne Enterprises is and always has been special, and I really feel it always will be. Your parents would be proud, Master Bruce."

Bruce placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and allowed his expression to thank Alfred for his words. Then he asked, "Have you been keeping an eye on the database search?"

"Yes, sir, I have- and it's finished. I'm afraid we came up with no results. The hair matches no one in your criminal database."

Bruce looked down in disappointment.

Then he raised his eyes again to his friend and helper and said, "Thank you, Alfred," before he walked away.

* * *

Batman stood on top of a building, pausing a moment to look across the street at the large building that was the main, central location of the Gotham City Police Department.

It was barely dusk, with quite a bit of daylight still out. A bit earlier than Batman tended to venture out most of the time, but Batman of course worked during the day when it was important, and right now he was coming to see Commissioner Gordon.

Batman grappled to the top of the GCPD building and then dropped the minor distance down to Gordon's balcony. Peering in, it didn't look like Gordon was in his office, but the light was on.

Batman waited patiently for several minutes until he saw Gordon enter his office- but he was with two other people. Batman stepped back against the railing of the balcony, out of the reach of the office light.

The three men walked over near Gordon's desk and stood there talking. After a few minutes, Gordon sat down but the three continued talking. It was another few minutes before the two other men left Gordon's office. Gordon remained.

Batman stepped to the balcony door. Gordon saw him through the glass before Batman had to knock. Gordon came to him and slid the door open.

Batman spoke first.

"My database search came up empty. No matches for the hair."

Gordon released a disappointed sigh. "Our search is still running. We can only pray we'll have a match."

"I hope you do, Commissioner, but it's not likely you will if I didn't."

Gordon frowned at him. "Just how big of a database do you have? And your system?"

Batman didn't answer.

"Anyway, I still gotta hope," Gordon said.

There was no need for either man to ask what else was being done or could be done. There was nothing else at this point. Gordon's men and Batman had scoured the crime scene. The hairs were the only thing they had to go on. Further investigation had been undertaken in the form of inquiries to individuals who lived or worked remotely nearby, but hope was pretty dim.

"Still have that gut feeling about Joker?" Batman asked. Of course, they hadn't expected the hair samples from the second crime scene to match Joker, since Joker was in custody, but that didn't mean he couldn't be behind it all. Batman still felt doubtful.

Gordon didn't say anything, but the resigned look on his face seemed to say no.

Both men turned away to leave at the same time.

Batman spent the night out patrolling. It was a very chilly, windy night, and not many people chose to linger out in it. He stopped two muggings and saw nothing else of interest all night long.

Before heading home, he returned to the road leading to Arkham Asylum. He gazed quietly for several minutes at the lamp post where the woman had been murdered. Not long before sunrise, he headed home.


	15. Chapter 15

_**15**_

On Saturday morning, Frank woke up just before eight o'clock. After using the bathroom, he walked into the living room yawning. He stopped mid-stretch and stared when he caught a glimpse of the outdoors through the living room window. There was a lot of white out there; it had snowed last night quite a bit. And it was still snowing. The last time he'd checked the weather forecast, it had only predicted some snowflakes, not a notable snowfall.

Frank smiled. Katie would be happy; she loved the snow. He also knew she'd want some hot chocolate today. He went to her bedroom to wake her up since she usually woke up not long after eight on weekends, anyway.

He approached her bed and then nudged her shoulder. She woke up right away.

"Hi Dad," she said, squinting a little.

"Good morning," Frank answered.

Katie stretched and then looked at her dad a little questioningly, wondering why he'd come to wake her up.

"You probably want to look outside," Frank told her.

Katie frowned, but got up. She crossed the room to her bedroom window and moved the curtain aside with her hand.

She gasped.

"Snow!"

"Yes," Frank said. "Lots of snow!"

"I better go play in it before it melts," Katie said.

"I think you have a while before it melts. The sun isn't shining," Frank said. "Don't you want breakfast first?"

"Yeah," Katie answered.

"And hot cocoa?"

"No, I'll have cocoa later when I come back in and I'm cold."

"Okay. Does french toast sound good for breakfast?"

"Yes. Hurry!"

"Okay, okay!" Frank went to the kitchen.

When he was almost done making breakfast, Katie entered, completely dressed. She had put on snow pants, and she looked impatient.

Frank laughed.

"It's about ready," he said.

"Good," Katie responded and sat down at the table.

Soon he set their plates of food on the table and poured cups of milk to drink. Katie was already gobbling her food down as he sat in his chair.

"Will you help me make a snowman?" Katie asked.

"Sure. I can try," Frank said. Sarah had always been better at that.

Before long, they were outside. Katie took off running across the yard. Then she jumped and landed dramatically on her knees in the snow with her hands in the air.

"Okay, Katie. You start gathering stuff for our snowman- little branches we can use for arms, and things to use for the face- while I start building it with snow."

"Okay!" Katie said and got to work. So did Frank.

Squeals and laughter could be heard from other children in the neighborhood playing in the snow. It reminded Frank of when he was a kid. He wished life could be that simple again. Right now, it was, while he was building a snowman. He remembered his dad showing him how to pack the snow together to make it stay. Frank wasn't great at it, but he managed.

Katie returned with a couple of branches for arms.

"Those will work great," Frank said, but before he'd even finished saying it, she'd already run off again. He heard her boots pounding across the porch behind him and turned to see her running into the house.

"Where are you going?" he asked, but she was already gone.

A moment later, she reappeared and ran back to Frank. She held out a hand to show Frank what was in it.

"Peanut M&Ms?" he asked.

"They're for the eyes, nose, and mouth," she said. She popped an M&M into her mouth.

"Not if you eat them before we're ready for them," Frank said.

"We didn't have any big carrots to use for the nose," Katie told him.

"I know. That's fine."

Katie set the M&M's down on the snow next to the snowman-in-progress. Then she knelt down and helped her dad with building it.

But after several minutes of that, she got up and trotted away again.

"Where are you going now?" Frank asked her without stopping what he was doing.

"You take too long," Katie said.

"Well, excuse me! I never said I was a snowman-making expert."

"That's okay," Katie said. "I'm gonna make something of my own."

Frank's snowman was eventually finished. He stuck the branch-arms into it and then turned to Katie.

"Do you want to come put the face on?" Frank called to her.

"Yeah. But come look at what I made first!"

Frank walked over to her. She stood up and took a few steps back to look at her small snow creation. It had pointed ears.

Frank frowned. "What's that? Are you thinking about the batman again?"

Katie frowned at him and then laughed. "No, it's a cat!"

"Oh!" Frank said. She'd given it eyes and a nose, but it needed something else.

"You should find some twigs for whiskers," he told her.

"Oooh!" she said, and scampered to find some. It took her less than a minute to return with the whiskers for her snow-kitty, and she added them to its face.

"Isn't it cute?" she gushed.

"Yes, good job. Now let's finish up our snowman."

* * *

"Look at that, Wayne," Heather said to her kitten as she looked out her apartment window. "Do you know what that is? That's snow."

Wayne pressed his nose against the window glass. Then, feeling the cold, he jerked back into Heather's arms. Heather laughed.

"I know, this is your first winter. You've never seen snow. Be glad you don't have to be outside in it! You have a nice, cozy apartment to live in. You'll probably never touch snow in your life. You're not going outside, if I can help it." Heather hugged him. "It's too dangerous out there."

She set Wayne down and watched him run to his nearest toy, and then she looked back out the window. "Some kitties don't have a warm home and a person that feeds them. Some _people_ don't have a warm home, either." She gazed at a homeless man down below, wrapped in a blanket.

"I'll be back, Wayne."

She left the apartment and went a couple of blocks to the nearest fast food restaurant. There she purchased a meal for herself and an extra one. On her way back home, she stopped at the homeless man, who now had the blanket over his head. She tapped him on the shoulder. He pulled the blanket off his head and looked at Heather.

"This is for you, sir," she said, holding out the bag with the extra burger and fries in it.

He looked at her in bewilderment for several seconds and then asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The man took the bag of food, and then Heather held out the drink she'd gotten him- a warm drink.

The man took it after looking at her again for a few seconds. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

Heather walked back to her apartment smiling.

* * *

Bruce sat at a desk in his home doing paperwork and occasionally gazing through the window at the snowy scene outside. There was a perfectly smooth, white blanket over everything out there.

Paperwork was a normal part of his position as head of Wayne Enterprises, but there was more paperwork than usual lately. Expanding and opening a new branch of the company does that. Not that all of the work was up to Bruce. There were a lot of people working on the details.

Alfred entered the room carrying a small tray with a steaming cup. "Would you like some tea, Master Bruce?"

"Sure. Thanks, Alfred."

Alfred set the tray down on the desk and noticed Bruce gazing out the window.

"You always hated the snow when you were younger," Alfred said. "Now I can't stop you from traipsing around in it at night."

Bruce smiled and took a drink of his tea. He still wasn't fond of snow- other than looking at it from inside- but it was necessary for Batman to function in it.


	16. Chapter 16

_**16**_

"Dad! Guess what?" Katie asked as she climbed into the car after school on a Monday afternoon. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and she was a little out of breath from running to the car.

"What?" Frank asked.

"We're having a talent show at school, and I know what I want to do for it." She pulled the car door shut behind her.

"Really?" Frank pulled the car away from its curbside spot and started down the street. "Seatbelt," he reminded Katie, who quickly buckled up.

Frank was surprised Katie wanted to be in the talent show. She had never liked being on stage before, and this show was voluntary.

"I want to play piano in it!" Katie told him. "I even know what song I'll do."

"Oh. Well, that's great, Katie, but... are you sure you want to do this? You'll be playing in front of a lot of people."

"I know, Dad," she said. "And I'm gonna practice. A lot."

"Okay, if it's what you want to do. When is this talent show?" Frank asked.

"Right after Christmas vacation."

"That's a couple of weeks. I guess you'd better start practicing!" Frank said.

"I will!" Katie said with a smile.

And she did. As soon as they got home, she went to the piano and started practicing the song she'd chosen. It was a Bach song of medium difficulty. Frank settled into a comfy spot on the couch with a book while she practiced.

After a while, Frank had to stop her and remind her she had homework to do.

* * *

Heather awakened with a jolt, opening her eyes to look at what had disturbed her. It was Wayne. He had jumped on top of her, and now he meowed.

She looked at her alarm clock. It would beep in about fifteen minutes.

"Wayne, it's not time to get up yet."

He meowed again, then kneaded her with his paws, purring.

Heather smiled. "Alright, I'm awake." She petted him for several minutes.

She'd been having those unpleasant dreams less lately, and it was nice getting up for work now that she was doing something meaningful. The planning work was progressing so rapidly, it wouldn't be many more weeks before the workings of Wayne Enterprises' new branch, which they'd taken to calling the Philanthropy Branch, would be underway and Heather would be doing what she wanted.

Wayne became feisty and began batting at Heather's hand that was petting him.

"Ahh," Heather said and drew back her hand that was getting clawed. She sat up and switched her alarm off a couple of minutes before it was going to beep. "Come on," she told Wayne. "I'll play with you a little bit before work."

She headed to the bathroom and was followed by the kitten. There wasn't really any snow outside right now; most of it from the previous snowfall had melted. But it was supposed to snow some again in a couple of days.

Already it was almost Christmas. Heather had a small Christmas tree in her living room. Wayne had quickly discovered the joy of playing with the ornaments he could reach and had pulled several down. Heather had had to move the lowest ones up higher. And although she'd purchased a few toys as presents for Wayne and wrapped them in wrapping paper, she couldn't have them under the tree or the kitten would tear them open. He still enjoyed going beneath the tree and laying there.

Bruce had invited Heather over for Christmas dinner. Of course she would go. What a radical change it would be to spend Christmas in a warm house eating good food with Bruce and Alfred, who basically felt like family, after her last Christmas had been spent alone and in much less favorable conditions.

* * *

Frank and Katie decorated their Christmas tree two days before Christmas, like they and Sarah always had. They liked to have the tree for a week or two before that with no decorations. It was pretty when it was plain too- in fact, Sarah much preferred it plain- and then decorating it right before Christmas always helped them get into the Christmas spirit.

They listened to their usual CD of piano Christmas music. Frank reflected for a moment on how fun Katie's Christmas vacation had been so far. They hadn't done anything particularly special, but it had been nice having her around all day every day. They'd played in the snow when it was snowy out.

She'd gotten very good at playing the piano piece she'd chosen for the talent show. She'd been playing it mistake-free for a while now, and had gotten pretty fast at it, too. Frank had warned her jokingly there was such a thing as too much practice, but she brushed that off.

After about forty-five minutes of work, the tree was fully decorated.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Frank said, stepping back.

"Turn the lights on, Dad," Katie said.

"Oh yeah." Frank found the dial-switch on the light cord and switched it on. The tree lit up.

"Pretty," Katie said. They sat down on the couch with their drinks. Frank was drinking eggnog, but Katie drank apple juice. When Frank had offered her eggnog, her answer had been: "Noooo!" She may never like the stuff after the way he'd introduced it to her last year. He'd handed her a glass of it and told her it was milk. Needless to say, she'd gotten quite a surprise, and not a pleasant one.

* * *

Jack Pendleton woke again and moaned. He was gagged and bound and couldn't move. He'd been this way for… how long had it been? He'd lost track. It seemed like months. Ropes dug into his flesh. He was always hungry and thirsty, despite his kidnapper coming to tend to him and the others often. A couple of the other kidnapped people had been taken out and had not returned. It was frightening, but it had been a while since that happened. Every day and every night, Jack and the other captive people around him sat there in silence, other than an occasional muffled moan. During daytime a little light came into the warehouse through the few narrow windows that were up very high in the walls, like basement windows. But even then, it was still pretty dark in there.

Jack and the others wished that whatever was going to happen to them would just _happen._ This waiting and their conditions were insufferable.

* * *

Heather began her Christmas Day helping Wayne open his presents and play with his toys, followed by enjoying some hot chocolate and part of a Christmas movie on TV. She spent a few hours of the early afternoon at a soup kitchen; she served the mashed potatoes and smiled at each weary face that came through, wishing them a merry Christmas.

Later in the day, she took a taxi out to Wayne Manor. It looked quite beautiful with snow covering the fence, the lawn, gardens, and the mansion itself. The gate was opened for them and the taxi took Heather up the drive and near the entrance.

Alfred already had the door open for her. "Merry Christmas, Miss Ames," he greeted her.

"Merry Christmas, Alfred," she said with a smile as she came in.

Bruce entered the foyer to greet her and they headed to the dining room. Soon they were eating a nice meal.

They talked quite a bit about work- the Philanthropy Branch- but all three of them ended up after dinner sitting in front of a cozy fire and sharing amusing Christmas stories from their past.

"I was so anxious to know if that box contained the train I wanted, I didn't stop at simply shaking it, like most kids do," Bruce said. "When it didn't make any noise, I took the box to my room and began to carefully peel off the tape and remove the wrapping paper, trying hard not to tear it at all. It was a very slow process. Of course, my dad came in right in the middle of it."

Heather and Alfred laughed.

"He knocked, but I didn't have time to hide what I'd been doing. He came right in, and the look on his face was priceless. I was too scared to laugh at his face, though."

"Were you in trouble?" Heather asked.

"I got lectured, and they hid all the presents someplace secret, not under the tree."

"Yes, I remember that," Alfred said.

"And not just that year," Bruce continued. "They did it every year after that. It was a good hiding place. I never found out where it was. They also tricked me that Christmas by keeping the train hidden until a few hours after all the other presents were opened. I thought I wouldn't get it."

Heather and Alfred laughed.

"I never had that problem with my daughter Laurie," Heather said. "She wasn't a peeker. She liked to be surprised."

Bruce smiled, but found he didn't know what to say. They hadn't talked much about her late husband and daughter.

"What about you, Heather? Were you a peeker?" Alfred asked.

"When I was a kid?" Heather asked.

Alfred nodded.

"Or as an adult," Bruce joked.

Heather smiled at the remark, then took a moment to think back. Childhood seemed so long ago now.

"I'm not really sure," she said. "I think I remember shaking a present or two, but I never discovered what anything was."

"Well," Alfred said, " _I_ was never one for peeking, but my brother Wilfred was. Every year, he was at it again. He succeeded with several different presents, finding out what they were. But he had a habit of accidentally saying something to give himself away when he knew what one was, so our parents became very good at wrapping presents defensively and packing them in there carefully so that they all sounded like clothes."

Heather giggled and said, "I didn't know you have a brother, Alfred."

"I do! Anyhow, one year there was this very big, tempting present in the living room next to the tree- it wouldn't even fit under the tree. It had both of our names on it, and our parents gave us strict instructions not to try to peek at it or we'd be in big trouble. Of course, this only enticed my brother more. I knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off it.

"One afternoon, I came out of the bedroom to find him there with it, looking like he was working hard at unwrapping it. Our parents were outside. I yelled at him, and he said, 'Alfred, I've just figured out how to unwrap this one carefully! Let me be!' He'd been sitting there with it for a long while, but I didn't want him ruining our Christmas by getting us into trouble. I didn't even want to know what it was yet.

"So I ran up behind him and got him in a headlock. He couldn't struggle against me very much because he had the gigantic present in his lap and didn't want to mess up his delicate unwrapping process. We stayed like that for a while, me telling him to leave the present alone and him saying 'no' repeatedly. Our parents came in and caught us like that. They told us we couldn't have the present- that they'd return it to the store as our punishment. After asking a few times whether they were serious, Wilfred quickly tore open the wrapping paper. Inside were two jumbo packages of toilet paper rolls, with a few rocks added in the middle for more weight."

Bruce and Heather laughed.

"That's a good one," said Bruce.

"But a little mean!" Heather pointed out.

"It worked," Alfred said. "At least, he never got _caught_ peeking again. Whether he actually stopped, I don't know."

The three of them talked for quite a while, and Heather couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed as much as she did that evening. They had a tasty dessert and Heather eventually took a taxi home, where little Wayne greeted her. She cuddled him happily when she walked in and thought about how lucky she was.

* * *

Katie waited patiently on Christmas morning for Frank to get up. It was almost nine o'clock when he came out of the bedroom and found her watching TV with Robbie the pink rabbit sitting next to her.

"I remember a time when you barely waited until the first sign of daylight before you'd come wake us up to open presents," Frank told her.

"Dad," she said, turning to look at him. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

Frank held back a chuckle. "Oh, well alright. Did you look in your stocking yet?"

"Dad!" she said.

Frank raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me. So then, I guess since you can wait, I'll go make breakfast."

Katie stood up. "No, I'll look in the stocking now."

Frank smiled. She walked over to her hanging stocking and pulled out the contents. There was candy and a tiny horse figure to go with her collection.

She hugged Frank and thanked him.

"Breakfast before other presents?" Frank asked.

"Yeah."

Katie was happy with the rest of her presents, and Frank received a present from her: a key chain with a picture of her and Sarah's faces that she'd cut out. Frank thanked her and slid it onto his keys.

They spent the afternoon over at Peter's house with him and his family. Katie used their piano to play the performance piece for them that she'd been practicing, and they all loved it.


	17. Chapter 17

_**17**_

The day of the talent show arrived. Frank was amazed at how calm Katie seemed to be. When he was a kid, he'd always gotten extremely nervous about things like that, sometimes to the point of being sick.

He clapped politely for all of the other children, some of which were genuinely good at their performances. When Katie came on and began playing her song on the piano, he beamed. He knew he was biased, but she was clearly very good! Glancing at the faces of a few other people in the audience, he could tell they thought the same.

When the performances were over, the judges took a few minutes to consult together. Then the winners were announced, and Katie took first place. Frank was ecstatic. Katie met him afterward and Frank embraced her in a congratulatory hug.

"Great job, honey!"

"Thanks, Dad," she said, holding the hug for a minute. Then she pulled back and showed him her ribbon.

"We'll hang that up in your room," he said. "Want to go get some ice cream to celebrate?"

"Yeah!"

* * *

"So beautiful," Jim Gordon's wife said, breaking the silence. She was sitting leaning back in her husband's arms on the balcony of their nice third floor apartment, looking out at the night view of the city. The snow made everything appear more lit than it otherwise would at this time of night, and also made everything seem somehow more peaceful.

"Don't you think so?" she asked her husband. He didn't answer. "Jim?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he responded.

Barbara sat forward and looked back at him.

"You were thinking about work, weren't you?" she asked.

He began to shake his head and opened his mouth to deny it, but Barbara's face adopted an _I know the truth and don't lie to me_ expression. She knew her husband.

"Yeah, I was."

Barbara sighed, causing a very noticeable amount of breath to appear in front of her face in the cold air. She was somewhat used to Jim's work interrupting their time together, sometimes by literally calling him away, other times by distracting his mind.

"What is it?" Barbara asked.

Jim looked down for a moment. He didn't have to answer that truthfully. She certainly didn't know about everything he dealt with at work. He wouldn't and couldn't tell her about every incident or case. But she did know about the case he was thinking about. Why lie?

"Those murders with the wires?" Barbara asked before Jim told her.

His lips showed a slight hint of a smile. She really did know him.

"Yes," he admitted.

Barbara had known that must be bothering him. It was such a gruesome, terrible thing, and the murderer hadn't been caught. That was enough to bother him, she knew. But…

"Jim, it's been several weeks since the second one," she pointed out. "Do you really think there might be more?"

Jim felt sure there would be. There were still six Arkham employees missing. It was likely they were in for the same fate.

"There very well could be more, Barb," he said. "There very well could be."

* * *

Frank's feeling of cheeriness that resulted from his first two killings of Arkham employees was fading away. It's not that he was bloodthirsty and out to kill, deriving joy from that; rather, doing justice to those employees was like a wave of relief washing over him, relief from his terrible feelings of misery and rage.

The relief was wearing off, and he knew he needed to act again. There was also the fact that taking care of the people in his warehouse was becoming more difficult. Some of them weren't in very good shape anymore. Having them die there wasn't what he had in mind.

* * *

It was a chilly night, and it was very quiet around the docks. Only the sound of gentle waves sloshing could be heard. There was a chilly breeze, but it wasn't a strong one. Clouds covered the night sky, blocking the moon from sight. It looked like snow soon.

Then the sound of piano music ripped into the silence, coming quickly closer. A pigeon resting under the overhang of a warehouse roof stirred at the appearance of bright headlights and the arrival of the music at full volume. The music ceased as the Cougar pulled to a stop. Frank got out.

Not particularly rushing, but moving pretty swiftly nonetheless, Frank opened the Cougar's trunk and grabbed the man inside with his gloved hands. Frank's movements weren't vicious, but firm. The man had fear in his eyes and seemed like he wanted to struggle, but was too weak. Frank had chosen one of his captives that seemed like he might not have lasted much longer in the warehouse.

The docks weren't a place of any particular significance to Frank. At this point, he just wanted to choose places that were isolated enough for his deeds. He hadn't gone to the docks that were nearest to his warehouse. That would be stupid.

He took the gagged man to the end of a dock. He left the man lying on his back on the wooden dock for a moment while he secured one end of a piano wire to a post on the dock, using pliers to help him work with the wire. He'd gotten pretty good at it now. The helpless man stared up into the sky. A couple of snowflakes came falling down onto his face.

When Frank was ready, he moved the man and sat him up at the edge of the dock, where he secured the other end of the wire around the man's neck. Frank never paused, never took time to have doubts about what he was doing. He just did it.

Soon, the man found himself thrust over the edge, the lower half of his body plunging into the freezing water, and searing pain coming around his throat.

As soon as the man was over the edge, Frank was walking away.

The music began again, and by the time the Cougar had departed and the music had faded away, the sounds of struggling, of water being violently splashed, and of gurgling choking had also ceased, leaving again only silence and now some falling snowflakes. The gentle waves arriving on the shore by that dock were soon red with blood.

* * *

This one wasn't found right away. At this time of year, there was less activity at the docks than usual. Still, there were some people around the area on business the next couple of days, but it wasn't until the third day after the murder that someone was at that particular dock to discover the man's body and call it in to the police.

The body was quickly identified as another one of the missing Arkham employees. It was a grotesque sight. One of the two men who found the body vomited.

A thorough sweep of the area was performed, which turned up nothing remotely useful. The only buildings there by the docks had no security cameras, just as there had been no cameras on the outside of the restaurant at which the first murder had taken place. Again, there was nothing to go on.

Batman refused to accept this. He spent hours investigating the area himself, both the old fashioned way with his own eyes, and doing various scans with his unique devices. He found nothing special at all. The only thing he made note of was part of a tire track in an interesting spot, and there was the fact that it appeared to be from a car sized tire rather than a truck sized tire, and he knew that mostly trucks were driven up to the docks. It probably meant nothing, but it was interesting. He took photos of the tire track just in case.

Then he spent more time on more evenings and nights simply scouting that area and surrounding areas for any suspicious activity, carefully watching everyone he saw and what they were doing.

He spoke to a homeless man who seemed to spend most of his time hanging around in or next to a currently vacant building on the way to the docks. After the man calmed down about the fact that he was talking to Batman, Batman asked him about that particular night. The man at first said no, he hadn't seen anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Then he suddenly remembered: an old black or dark-colored car had passed by at about the time of night Batman spoke of, first heading towards the docks and then soon back the other way. Not a lot of cars passed by out here at nighttime, and this one in particular had made the man look up, because classical music seemed to be coming from it. Piano music.

"At first, I thought maybe I was imagining the music," the man said. "I guess when you get told by enough people in your life that you're crazy, you start believin' it. But then it drove back by again, and I heard it again, and I swear, the music was real."

Now Batman felt it was possible he _might_ be getting somewhere. He suspected he had seen and heard that same car from a distance on another night some weeks ago standing on a rooftop in the city.

* * *

The news programs went crazy about the incident- the third murder of the type. What were the police doing about the series of murders? Why was no progress being made? Were they going to seek help from the FBI or Batman? Some reporters seemed to really think that Batman did, indeed, exist.

Frank didn't watch many of these news reports. In fact, he frequently would change the channel when they came on. They were extremely annoying to watch, but seeing them come on before he changed channels gave him a little bit of a high, reminding him, sustaining him, helping him wait a little longer until his next deed. A part of him wanted to go and do one every night, or maybe even all the rest of them in one night. Then he'd be rid of the people in his warehouse, no longer having to take care of them.

But that just didn't feel like the right way to do it.


	18. Chapter 18

_**18**_

Unfortunately, Frank found that the third killing didn't provide him with relief for very long at all. A heavy, dark unhappiness was setting in again, like that which had become all too familiar to him in previous months.

He began to think about what he'd do after all of the people in his warehouse were gone. Just live normally? Try to work again? Kidnap more?

No, no, none of that. None of it would work. He had fleeting thoughts of taking his own life afterwards, and doing it in a similar way to his other killings. But it wasn't time to worry about making those decisions yet. He still had more to do first.

Twelve nights after the third murder, he set out again.

* * *

Nina and her boyfriend, Brian, had always liked to take night walks together. On this night, they were walking along a road in their neighborhood on the outskirts of Gotham on their way to a small park that had a playground. When they were nearly to the park, a car came charging down the road from the opposite direction. It was going so fast it was a little scary, and they heard piano music coming from it.

After the car passed, Nina and Brian looked at each other. They laughed at each other's incredulous expressions and continued on their way.

Soon they were at the park and swinging on the swing set. They talked for several minutes as they swung, then swung in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the peaceful night and looking at the sky. After that, Nina wanted to slide down the biggest slide, which was large enough for adult use.

Brian was standing at the bottom waiting for her. When Nina stood up from the slide, he kneeled down.

"What's wrong?" Nina asked, confused at first.

Then he held something out for her to see. It was a small box with a ring in it.

Nina's mouth opened in surprise.

"Will you marry me, Nina?"

Nina laughed happily, still surprised.

"Yes, of course I will!"

Brian stood up and they embraced.

It might have seemed a strange proposal situation to some, but not to either of them. They were a bit different from your average couple, and their night walks were special to them.

After a few minutes of cuddling and kissing, they decided to walk to the cemetery not far down the street- another thing that most people would find strange, but these two enjoyed a stroll in the cemetery once in a while, especially at night.

As they walked down the wide paved lane in the middle of the cemetery holding hands, Nina suddenly stopped walking and squeezed Brian's hand very tightly.

"What's that?" she whispered.

"What?"

She slowly raised a quivering finger to point.

Brian gasped. In the direction she was pointing, there was what appeared to be a body hanging from a tree. From where they stood, they couldn't see the rope which held it, only the body dangling- but it must've been hanging by a rope.

"Is that..." Nina started to ask, but didn't finish.

"It might be fake," Brian said.

Nina looked at him.

"A prank, maybe," he continued.

Nina looked back at it with wide eyes.

"I guess we should…. go see," Brian said, not sounding very fond of the idea himself.

"I don't want to," Nina said.

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Let's just call the cops," Nina suggested, tugging at him to go back the way they'd come.

"We should see if it's real first," Brian said. "You can stay here if you want."

He started walking down the little dirt walkway which led through a section of graves and which ran along next to the tree. His eyes remained fixed on the hanging figure, peering at it through the darkness. Part of him was intrigued, the other part terrified.

He gasped and stopped several feet away from it, his eyes wide. Only then did he hear Nina's footsteps behind him and realize she'd followed. Her footsteps quickly stopped. She started breathing heavily, and Brian turned to see her take a few steps backwards and then lean over with her hands resting on her knees.

Brian turned back for a brief moment towards the spectacle in front of them. The body seemed to be hanging by some sort of strong wire wrapped around the neck. It dug deeply into the flesh and there was a _lot_ of blood.

"Come on!" Brian said to Nina, taking her by the arm. They jogged away.

* * *

Upon being told that the young couple had discovered the body very shortly after the time of death, Batman insisted that Gordon ask them if they'd seen an old, dark muscle car and heard piano music. Gordon looked at Batman like he was completely crazy, but Batman insisted. Most likely, they hadn't seen the car even if it was involved, but it could be important to ask.

Gordon did ask. It turned out they remembered seeing and hearing a car like that- not at the cemetery, but out on the road. It definitely could have been leaving the cemetery, they said.

Batman felt convinced it wasn't a coincidence.

Soon, newscasters were describing the car on television and requesting that anyone with information on the whereabouts of the car or its driver phone it in.

Frank heard one of these reports on the radio while he was driving. It startled him so much to hear the reporter describe his Cougar, he went into a wide-eyed daze for a moment and failed to notice his car veering out of its lane until someone honked. Frank jerked his car back into its lane, ignoring the angry glare from the driver next to him.

He wasn't in the Cougar now; he was in the Honda on his way to pick up Katie from school.

So, the authorities seemed to know what he drove on his special nights out. That could be disastrous. He could stop using that car… but no. He would not. The car was his ode to Sarah, and it was only appropriate he drive it when enacting justice for her. He would just need to avoid being seen and heard in it, and he'd have to be prepared in case he was.

Then Frank realized this meant he could never drive the Cougar out in the open when all of this was done. He slammed a hand down on the steering wheel angrily.

For a few minutes he drove like a jerk, going fast, cutting other drivers off, and not letting them over when they tried to get into his lane. He managed to mostly compose himself before arriving at Katie's school, but he still must have seemed somewhat upset, because Katie asked him what was wrong not long after getting into the car.

"Oh, nothing- just a little grumpy today, I guess," Frank answered.

* * *

Frank woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. Groggily, he reached over to press the button and make it stop. He glared at the time for a moment. Seven o'clock. The time he used to get up for work.

Why did that go off? He hadn't set the alarm. He staggered out of bed and to the bathroom. As soon as he stepped out from the bathroom into the hall, he heard something that made him freeze. An unexpected sound reached his ears- a familiar voice humming a tune.

Frank slowly followed the sound. He paused in the kitchen doorway, not believing his eyes.

"Good morning," Sarah said when she saw him.

Frank rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, then looked at her again.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked as she walked up to him. She gave him a kiss.

Frank looked at her in shock. "Sarah?"

"What?"

"What's going on?" Frank asked.

"Uh… breakfast is almost ready," Sarah answered, looking at him strangely.

"You're _alive._ "

"Of course I am," Sarah said.

Frank embraced her in a huge hug. She hugged back for a moment, then tried to pull away. Frank held on to her.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"I had a dream…" he said. "I guess it was a dream."

Sarah pulled away again and Frank let her go. She rushed back over to the stove to tend to the scrambled eggs that were cooking.

Frank pulled out a kitchen chair and plopped down heavily into it.

"A dream?" Sarah asked from over at the stove.

"Yes. A nightmare. A very long, detailed nightmare."

A moment later, Sarah stepped back over to Frank. "Did I die in this dream?"

Frank took her hands in his and nodded his head yes.

Sarah's face briefly showed empathy as she squeezed Frank's hands. Then she said, "Well, you know what they say."

Frank looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Our subconscious thoughts and desires often come through in our dreams." She didn't quite successfully hold back a smile.

"Don't joke," Frank said, letting go of her hands.

"I'm sorry. The dream really bothered you, huh?"

Frank stood and cupped her face with his hand. "You have no idea." He kissed her again.

"I'd better get our plates ready," Sarah said after the kiss.

Frank moved to help her. Katie came into the kitchen while they were getting the food ready.

"Hi," she said.

"'Morning, Katie," Sarah said.

Frank moved to give Katie a big hug. Sarah watched with a little smile. Katie had a _that was weird_ look on her face afterward.

In the middle of breakfast, Frank said, "Hey, why don't we all spend the day together today?"

Both girls looked at him, surprised.

"What about school?" Katie asked.

"You can miss it today," Frank answered, "and I can miss work."

Katie gasped in excitement.

"Are you sure, Frank?" Sarah asked.

"Definitely! Today can be a family day."

They had a great day together: they went bowling, went to a movie and lunch, and then they played miniature golf. Then they had a nice evening at home, with Sarah and Katie playing piano after dinner. They even played a duet together.

Frank laid in bed that night with Sarah in his arms. He tried to stay awake, but he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Frank awoke gradually, not opening his eyes at first. He squeezed Sarah, who was still in his arms.

After a moment, he opened his eyes. It wasn't Sarah in his arms… it was a pillow.

He lifted his head and saw that he wasn't even in their bed, or in their house.

He was in a mostly bare, drab room. He sat up on the bed. The door to the room had a small window in it. He stood and walked over to this. Peering out, he saw into a hallway, and he could see other doors with little windows in them.

Frank reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it. It was locked.

He pounded on the door. "Hey!"

Nothing happened. He pounded some more. "Hey! Where am I? Let me out!"

He continued to pound on the door with his fists and then began to kick it. He was in socks- no shoes- so he had to kick it somewhat carefully.

"HEY! LET ME OUT!"

Suddenly, Frank saw a face appear in the window of the door across the hall from his. It startled him so, and looked so evil, that at first Frank ducked away from his own window, wide-eyed.

After a moment, he looked out again. It was a bald-headed man, and Frank could see some scars in the form of tally-marks on his face. Frank stared, still feeling a little scared at first, then angry as he realized who he thought this man was. Sarah's killer? The man grinned a sinister grin at him.

"Am I… in Arkham?" Frank whispered to himself. "Arkham Asylum?" _When did they catch me?_ he thought to himself. _What's going on?_

He pounded on the door again. "Hey! I don't belong in here!" It was true. He may belong in prison, according to the law. But not in an insane asylum.

Frank quickly grew silent and wide-eyed again as the door across the hall from him opened. The man from that room stood exposed, still grinning at Frank. He wore no shirt, and had tally marks in various places on his body. Why had his door been unlocked? Or had he managed to pick the lock?

The man took a step forward out of his room and into the hall. Frank took a step back from his own door. The man had a knife in his hand. How? How could he have a knife in here…?

The man slowly crossed the hall to Frank's door and stood grinning at Frank through the window, his breath beginning to fog up the glass. Frank backed up halfway across the room even though he knew his door was locked.

The door handle turned, and then the door swung open. Frank stared in disbelief at first, then quickly backed up until he hit the opposite wall, flattening himself against it.

"Help!" Frank called out.

The man took a couple of steps forward.

Frank stood there frozen against the wall. _Why don't I move? Why don't I defend myself or run past him?_

Frank found that he couldn't even yell now. The man suddenly lunged at him with the knife, and Frank closed his eyes.

* * *

Frank awoke once again. He jerked his head up, glancing at his surroundings. He was in his own bed and drenched in sweat. He laid his head back down for a moment and flopped his arm across Sarah's side of the bed. Empty. Of course it was empty.

Only a little bit of weak morning light made it past the dark clouds and in through the bedroom window.

Those dreams… they had seemed so real, especially the first one. The one with Sarah. Frank sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He got up and quickly left the bedroom, making his way down the hall. He didn't stop at the bathroom, instead hurrying to the kitchen.

Some part of him hoped…

Nope. The kitchen was dark and empty.


	19. Chapter 19

_**19**_

It was a very cold night, but cloudless, and Batman was out on patrol.

Suddenly he heard Alfred's voice in his earpiece.

"Master Bruce," it said.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"I just saw something on the news that I'm sure will be of interest to you."

"On the news? At this time of night?"

"An urgent broadcast interruption."

"What is it?"

"Some police units have been gathering over on the east side. Apparently there's been a claimed spotting of that car."

Batman knew exactly what car he was talking about. He couldn't help frowning a little. A killer that had been so careful thus far, being spotted this easily now?

Immediately, Batman began making his way back to his batmobile while Alfred gave him street names.

* * *

Gordon walked back towards his car after having been out in the cold conferring with a group of his officers. Just as he was reaching the car, in the corner of his vision he caught sight of a dark figure stepping slightly out of the nearby alley and standing there. The outer reaches of the light from the nearest lamppost reached the figure just enough for Gordon to tell who it was.

Getting into the warm car would have to wait. Gordon motioned to the officer in it waiting for him that he'd be another minute.

He walked over to the alley and stepped into the shadows with Batman to talk.

* * *

Frank had recently decided it would be nice to involve pianos in his dirty deeds- more so than just using a piano wire. At least, he wanted to do so for his next deed. He wasn't sure if he could manage to do so for all of them.

He had searched hard in order to find a piano store that was somewhat remote rather than in the middle of the city. It still meant driving the Cougar a little farther into Gotham than he was comfortable doing now, but at least it was in an area where not many people tended to be out and about at night, and it was very late.

Frank enjoyed the drive, rolling the windows partly down and letting the cold air and the music invigorate him.

He only passed a very few people during the whole drive, and when he reached the piano shop and parked in front of it, was pleased to see no one around.

He got out of the car with a large duffle bag and, before getting his passenger out of the trunk, went to the store's front door to get it open. He'd been here already to make sure there were no security cameras. Nor was there any sticker in the front displaying that the store had a security service, so Frank was hopeful there was no kind of security alarm. It was a little mom-and-pop type business, and it was probably true a piano was something no one would try to steal.

Frank had brought along things with him to get the door open. He didn't need most of them, as he managed to pick the lock in less than a minute.

Then after having another careful look around for any sign of people, he got the woman out of the trunk and took her into the store.

* * *

Batman was driving. In the alley, Gordon had told Batman where his police units were searching. Nobody knew, of course, where or how far the suspect car had gone after being spotted. Batman told Gordon he would search a certain area on his own. He'd be going farther out than most of the police units were so far. Batman figured if it was indeed the murderer, he would be heading to a secluded, outlying place. If he was on his way to commit a murder, that is. Either way, Batman really hoped that he (or she) wouldn't get the chance to.

* * *

The woman lay helpless on the floor of the piano shop, bound and gagged, while Frank propped open the lid to the grand piano they were next to. He then began to remove things from his duffle bag and set them out like a surgeon laying out his medical instruments before a procedure. The woman struggled to turn her head and tilt herself in a way to allow her a view of what he was doing. When she saw the items he had, her eyes widened.

Frank had turned on a lantern he'd brought with him. Since they weren't right in the front of the shop, the light from the lantern didn't quite reach the front windows and probably wouldn't be seen from the street. That was good, because this would take a little longer than Frank's previous kills.

Frank looked at the woman and saw her eying his supplies fearfully. "Don't worry," he said, speaking to a victim for the first time. "You won't be alive to experience all of those." Frank wasn't into torture, after all. At least, he wasn't ready for something like that yet. He would kill her first, much like the others, and then he'd start with the stuff that would make this one special.

* * *

One patrol car slowed their speed for a moment and then pulled over to the side of the street.

Both officers in the vehicle exchanged glances, and then one of them held his radio near his mouth.

"2C35 to dispatch."

"Dispatch, go ahead 2C35."

"I'm looking at a parked vehicle matching the suspect vehicle description."

"What's your location?"

The officer gave street names and then waited a moment.

"2C35, this is Dispatch. Backup is on its way."

* * *

Batman wasn't having any luck in his search area. He drove back in a little closer from that area and then parked the batmobile in an alley and activated its shields. Now that he was surrounded by plenty of buildings, searching would be quicker and easier by rooftop.

He grappled up to the nearest rooftop, crossed it, then leapt and glided with outspread cape to the next rooftop. His eyes scanned for the vehicle in question, and he had devices that helped him monitor any nearby movements and sounds much better than he could with his own senses.

* * *

Nearby backup was quick to arrive to the patrol car who had spotted the vehicle. Two other police cars pulled up within seconds of each other. The officers in the first patrol car had already recorded the vehicle's license plate number and confirmed no one was in the vehicle.

With the newly arrived officers, they entered the building.

* * *

Several minutes later, Commissioner Gordon received word over the radio that this sighting had been a false alarm. The owner of the parked car was an elderly man who slept in a small apartment above the shop he owned. The man was able to pull up footage from a security camera outside to show that he'd been in all night.

Upon hearing this, Gordon pounded his fist down vigorously onto his thigh, ignoring the pain.

"Damn!"

* * *

With his gloved hands, Frank pulled the wire away from the woman's throat. There was no more fear in her eyes and no more struggling. He let her head down gently to rest on the floor and sat for a brief moment in silence, his breathing growing calm again. Then he maneuvered carefully through the quickly spreading pool of blood to get to the rest of his instruments.

* * *

After a while of searching by rooftop, Batman returned to his batmobile and set out to drive to another area of the city. Suddenly, an old black car- an Mercury- flashed by, heading the opposite direction. Batman heard piano music through his windows, which he had already rolled down for just this reason.

Batman almost flipped an immediate U-turn to follow and catch the car, but quickly decided it may be beneficial to follow more covertly. Maybe, just maybe, the car may lead him to wherever the remaining kidnapped individuals were. He slowed down, switched off his lights, and then turned the batmobile around to follow at a distance. This probably wasn't how the police would do it if they were the ones pursuing right now, but it was certainly the wisest way, Batman decided.

* * *

Frank was enjoying his drive back to the warehouse until he noticed something while looking in the rear view mirror.

He had to look carefully at the mirror for a moment. There was a car behind him- not close behind him, but staying in sight, and it had no headlights on. The street lamps allowed Frank to barely see it.

Frank's heart raced as the thought occurred to him: he was being followed.

Who could this be? Did they know what he'd done?

Impossible. If they'd known where he had just been and what he'd done, they would have intervened. No one knew.

 _If it's so impossible, then why does the only other car around seem to be following you?_ Frank thought to himself.

He quickly altered his route, taking a different turn, and then another one. The car in his mirror dropped back out of sight a couple of times, but came back within sight each time. Following him.

Frank wondered what the follower would do if he drove to an apartment building and went inside as if he lived there. Would this person- or people- get out and stalk him? Confront him? Was it a detective? WHO?

Frank decided he didn't want to find out.

He stepped vigorously on the gas pedal and glared at the rear view mirror. At first, the following car fell behind and out of sight once again, but it soon reappeared.

* * *

The sudden acceleration had caught Batman off guard, but he reacted quickly with his own gas pedal. The Cougar was fast, but the batmobile was up to the challenge. Batman flipped his headlights on with no more need for secrecy.

He'd just barely caught up enough to catch sight of the Cougar again when he glimpsed it making a turn, not really slowing down to do so. Tires squealed.

Batman made the turn skillfully and swiftly when he reached it, accelerating again and gaining ground.

The Cougar made another turn, followed quickly by another, usually alternating between turning left and right. Batman steadily kept pace with it.

* * *

As Frank came out of a turn, he found himself on the wrong side of the road, on a collision course with another car. His eyes widened at the sight of the approaching headlights and he swerved desperately, barely missing the car as it honked at him. Frank had over-swerved and accidentally bashed against a vehicle parked along the other side of the road, but kept driving. The side of the Cougar was now quite visibly damaged, but not in a way that affected driving at all, Frank was thankful to discover.

Frank's ungraceful swerving and smashing had allowed Batman to close the space that remained between them. He was now very close on Frank's tail.

Frank now realized from the view in his mirror that it was no ordinary car following him. Who was this person?

* * *

Batman could tell the Cougar's driver was trying to lose him by taking some turns suddenly at the last moment, including a shortcut through a parking lot. But Batman was able to make each turn and Frank didn't succeed in gaining any significant distance over the batmobile.

The Cougar was heading in toward a busier part of the city now. Batman was wondering if that was on purpose- maybe the driver thought he could lose Batman easier that way- but it was also possible that the driver was frantic and not entirely aware of where he was going. Either way, the driver was probably unaware that there were multiple police units on the lookout for him. Batman figured they were bound to encounter some.

* * *

Frank was seeing a few more vehicles on the streets now. That made him nervous- more nervous than he already was- but he passed them without incident.

Wait, was that…? That was a cop car he'd just seen at the intersection he'd flown through.

* * *

The policewoman in that car, Officer Bennett, dropped her jaw in amazement at the car she'd just seen zip by, accompanied by the sound of piano music and followed by… by… the most amazing vehicle she'd ever seen.

She quickly turned to follow the two vehicles, radioing in her pursuit to dispatch.

* * *

Frank didn't know what to do now. Now the cop would probably be after him too, and then probably more cops, and… and… this couldn't end well. It just couldn't.

Frank looked over at his car's glove box. He'd brought a gun along- a lethal gun this time- in case things went south, but he hadn't really expected them to. He hadn't expected to use it.

The police car was chasing him now too, alright, siren and all.

He strained to reach the glove box and pull out the gun. He'd better take action now before there were more police involved. Right now he might still have a chance.

Frank briefly considered shooting at the two vehicles while driving, but he knew he probably wasn't good enough at shooting _or_ driving to have much success with that.

He brought the Cougar into a screeching U-turn up onto the sidewalk, where he stopped, almost hitting a lamppost. The batmobile also came to a screeching halt, followed shortly by the police car.

* * *

Frank was ready with his gun before the other two were even out of their vehicles. The cop car's door opened and Frank fired a shot, but Officer Bennett was already taking cover behind the car, which she'd parked at a strategic angle.

Officer Bennett called out instructions to the armed man, telling him to put down his gun and to step away from it with his hands raised.

The only answer she got was another shot.

A couple of moments later, Officer Bennett rose briefly above cover to fire off a shot of her own, ducking again immediately. She'd missed. A couple more shots were fired at her, hitting her car. She waited a couple of moments and rose again.

Batman heard the woman's voice- "Oomph!"- as a bullet got her. He heard the thud of her body hitting the pavement. Swiftly and silently, staying very close to the ground, he maneuvered around the vehicles and went to her.

Her already panicked eyes widened in amazement at the sight of the costumed man. So that's who'd been driving that extraordinary vehicle.

She'd been shot in the shoulder. Batman glanced inside her vehicle, then reached inside and grabbed her uniform jacket. He rolled it up and pressed it against her wound, motioning for her to take it. She did, and pressed it against the wound with what strength she could summon. She stared at Batman as he took her handcuffs and then crept away, disappearing into the darkness.

Frank peered at the two vehicles. He knew he'd shot the police officer. What about the other driver? Where was he?

Light from the headlights made it difficult to see much in the darkness not illuminated by them. Frank kept his gun pointed in that direction, taking a few small, slow steps forward.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around Frank's chest from behind and his gun was knocked from the hand of his now wavering arm.

Batman dealt Frank a blow and wrestled him to the ground, where he held him down for a moment and looked at him. Frank's eyes were wide as he beheld Batman, a man he'd insisted didn't exist.

As Batman looked at Frank, who looked like an entirely average man, Batman wanted to ask: _Why?_

Why had this man done what he'd done?

Almost as if in answer to Batman's silent question, Frank said softly, "You don't know what it's like… to lose someone you love the way I did." Silence for a moment. "Brutally murdered…"

Batman whispered, "Yes, I do."

Batman punched the man and turned him around to cuff him. How could anyone's mind work that way? How could it somehow be avenging the murder of a loved one to go and murder several other people?

Batman also bound Frank's feet. The sound of sirens could be heard approaching. More police were on their way.

Batman stood and returned to the batmobile, leaving the bound man and the injured policewoman to be found. The arriving police, which included Gordon, barely caught a glimpse of the batmobile leaving.


	20. Chapter 20

_**20**_

Frank was sobbing when they found him. "Please, I have a little girl at home!" he'd wailed. At the station, the police quickly determined where his home was so that his daughter could be taken care of.

The news channels began reporting quite quickly what little they knew about the events in the street that night. Late the next day, it was revealed that another Arkham Asylum employee murder had taken place and that shortly thereafter, a suspect had been apprehended.

This murder had been even more ghastly than those preceding it. The victim appeared to have first been killed using a piano wire to the throat- nothing new there. At least, examiners thought that was what took place first, and everyone hoped so. The murderer had then proceeded to cut the body into a number of pieces, and had done so quite neatly, even professionally. Most of the body parts had then been arranged inside the piano beneath the lid, except for the hands. Those were found on the piano keyboard, and there were bloody fingerprints from those hands on the keys. It was up to speculation whether the fingerprints were from before or after the victim's death.

* * *

After the initial show of emotion about his daughter, Frank remained silent for quite some time, apparently indifferent to all that was said to him and to all questions he was asked. He had even declined to make the phone call he was entitled to.

Test results showed that Frank's hair matched the hair found at one of the murders. The tires on his Mercury Cougar also matched the tire tracks at the docks.

After a little while, especially after those bits of evidence had been confirmed, Frank spoke and admitted what he'd done. He even explained why, although he knew those listening would never understand. He could see it in their faces. They were filled with anger and disgust.

One thing Frank would not confess was the location of the remaining three Arkham Asylum employees he'd taken. Batman did some detective work and discovered Frank had been renting a warehouse. He gave this information to Gordon, and so the remaining three were found and rescued, two of them barely alive.

* * *

Little Angels' Hope House. That was the name of the orphanage, or "group home," that Katie was taken to when it had been determined she had no living relatives.

She'd yelled and screamed at the people who had told her about her dad, and at the people who had brought her here, and even at first at the people who took care of her here, even though they were kind and caring and only wanting to help. Then she settled into a sullen silence, which is how she was when Peter and Laura, her dad's former boss and wife, came to see her.

Katie had been there for several days when she was called into the visiting room and she saw them standing there, tears in their eyes when they saw her. After a moment, Laura went to Katie and bent down to embrace her in a hug. Katie hugged weakly back. Peter hugged her next.

"We've told them that we'd be glad to take you and look after you for a while," Laura said. She looked at Peter.

"Yes. We would be your foster family until something else is worked out for you," Peter told her.

Katie didn't know how to feel or what to say.

There were two of the orphanage staff present in the room, and one of them spoke now. "Katie, it will take a little while to do the background checks and whole approval process, and to work out the paperwork. But we're prepared to begin the process and to rush it to send you home with them as soon as possible, if that's what you want."

Katie had mixed feelings about the offer. She couldn't imagine herself living with their family, but neither did she want to imagine herself staying here for long.

"Katie?" Laura said gently after a moment. " _Do_ you want to?"

Katie tightened her lips, and then made herself answer. "I… I guess."

Laura and Peter smiled at her, and Peter squeezed her shoulders. Katie looked down at her large pink rabbit, Robbie, sitting at her feet as she held the ears. Her dad had won him for her. Her dad wouldn't always be there for her- he couldn't, now- but Robbie would be. She would take care of Robbie, and Robbie would take care of her.

* * *

Bruce Wayne visited Katie as well. She didn't know, of course, that he was Batman, the one who had caught her mother's murderer months before, and the one who had caught her father. She didn't even know he was Bruce Wayne, one of the orphanage's biggest supporters. She just knew he was a nice man who kept coming to visit and talk to her.

Bruce had felt terrible when he'd heard about Katie and realized that not only was she losing her father, but that she was the same girl who had lost her mother when Victor Zsasz had escaped. So he'd gone to Little Angels' Hope House to visit her, but from her demeanor and her few words, he at first felt that she didn't care for him to be there.

She then began to talk to him more and to enjoy his visits. Although she was still depressed, Bruce began to see some of her personality showing through. He was pleased that, at least for a little while, sometimes, he could make her feel better. He wanted to help her, to really help her, but for a while he was at a loss for what to do. He knew arrangements were being made for her to go stay as a foster child with her father's former employer… but Bruce couldn't help wanting something better for her. They could be nice people, that family, but it would be better for Katie to go with someone who would be taking her home for good, not just for a while to then be uprooted again, and someone who would be taking her in because they really wanted her, not because of a sense of duty.

* * *

Frank's days were spent brooding in a cell now. He hadn't asked to see Katie, and she hadn't asked to see him. He was relieved she hadn't come. What would he say? What could be said? Things were what they were, and he was resigned to his fate.

* * *

Heather walked to her apartment door humming a tune. It had been another fulfilling day at work. Things had progressed quite quickly and she was now doing what she'd dreamed. She spent the mornings of her work days giving counseling and guidance to the needy who came for it. Then after a break, she was the afternoon manager at one of the company's first two soup kitchens. She worked the after-lunch cleanup, the dinner preparation and serving, and sometimes, the after-dinner cleanup. She sometimes left earlier, as she wasn't required to be there for the after-dinner cleanup and staying until it was completed often meant being there quite late.

She usually spent a while mingling with the homeless as they ate, saying hello, inviting them to counseling, and sometimes even sitting to eat with them.

Heather loved the work and found it hard to believe she was getting paid for it.

After unlocking her apartment door, she paused and listened, hearing Wayne meowing at her from inside. She smiled at went in.

"Hi Wayne!" she said in response to the kitten's enthusiastic meows.

She set down her things and scooped him up. It hadn't been terribly long since she'd seen him, as she always came home from work for her break in the middle of the day to check on Wayne and play with him a little.

Putting him down again, she asked, "Are you ready to eat? Let's get you your dinner, and then I need to get ready to go eat mine!"

She was invited to have dinner with Bruce at Wayne Manor that evening.

* * *

Heather had an enjoyable meal with Bruce, followed by a nice time visiting and laughing with him and Alfred, as usual.

Bruce didn't know how exactly to go about asking what he wanted to ask, so he just bit the bullet and asked. "Heather, have you thought at all about adopting a child?"

Heather blinked a little bit in surprise. "Well, yes, the thought has occurred to me, although I hadn't thought seriously about it yet." She did miss her daughter quite a bit. "Why? Do I seem lonely?" she asked.

Bruce then explained to her all about Katie.

* * *

One day, Frank woke up to find that Sarah was with him in his cell. He spoke to her, eventually drawing the attention of those around him. It became a habit, talking to Sarah. She was there with him most of the time now, so why wouldn't he talk to her and caress her?

She even played piano for him sometimes, and when she did, Frank yelled at everyone around to be quiet and let him listen. He became angry and violent towards anyone who tried to shush him or to point out to him that no one was there with him when he spoke to Sarah and that there was no music.

It wasn't long before Frank was transferred to Arkham Asylum.

* * *

Heather and Katie turned out to get along very well. It seemed Heather knew just what to say to Katie from the beginning. She spent time with Katie, visiting her and sometimes taking her out to lunch or a movie. They quickly grew very fond of each other and it wasn't long before Katie loved the idea of going home with Heather. Shortly before the approval and paperwork process was completed for Katie to go home with Peter and Laura's family, that process was halted and the adoption process began for her to go with Heather. Peter and Laura were very happy that Katie had found an adoptive mother.

When the adoption process was eventually complete, Katie found herself walking into Heather's apartment, her new home. She dropped her bag she was carrying to hug Wayne the kitten, another friend with whom she would be starting her new life.


End file.
